


Sanders Sides: Open Wide

by LizLuvsCupcakes



Series: Remus Finds a FamILY [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Siblings, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders-centric, Familial LAMP/CALM, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Logan wanted to be a doctor, Remus being Remus, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Unsympathetic Deceit Sanders, Villain Deceit Sanders, all relationships are meant to be platonic, good for you i guess, graphic depictions of tooth pulling, graphic descriptions of pain, if you interpret them romantically, mentions of abuse, patton is the best dad, sorry for all the tags I didn't wanna miss anything, tw: dental phobia, tw: dental stuff, tw: dental torture, tw: remus sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizLuvsCupcakes/pseuds/LizLuvsCupcakes
Summary: Based on my headcanon that Remus is incredibly frightened of the dentist due to an experience with Deceit that was meant to teach him how to scare Thomas, but instead left him sporting massive mental scars. But mainly I noticed there weren't nearly as many medical-related hurt/comfort fics in this fandom as I'd like, and decided to vomit this into existence. I hope you like it!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Familial LAMP, LAMP/CALM, Platonic LAMP/CALM
Series: Remus Finds a FamILY [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728466
Comments: 144
Kudos: 255





	1. Appointment at 2:30

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! So… this fic ended up being longer than I expected. Regardless, here you are! Part one of a stupid fanfic based on a headcanon that Remus is afraid of the dentist. Of course, TW for Duke stuff and, if you’re squicked out or triggered by dental stuff, you may wanna read something else. But if you wanna continue, please join me into this weird journey into the mind of a madman!

Certain things were very,  _ very  _ funny until they happened to you. 

It was very fun to imagine terrible things being done, to imagine doing terrible things to other people, until you imagined those same people doing those same terrible things to you. 

For instance, when Thomas had trouble sleeping, bothered by the elabourate fantasies Remus had concocted for him, be they engaging in cannibalism or a wild animal breaking into his home and eating his friends in front of him, it was always funny to watch him sit there, stunned into shock by his own brain. It was also always funny to watch certain movies and remind him of varying scenes at the worst possible moment, like the opening to Lost before he boarded a plane. 

Or now.

“Hey Thomas,” he chirped eagerly in his… uh… what was their relationship again? Roommates? Father-son? Brothers? Whatever. He chirped into Thomas’ ear, again, “hey, Tom? Tom. Thomathy. Thomas.”

“Not now, I'm driving,” he sighed, considerably less fun than normal. 

Whatever. He could fix that. 

“Do you remember that clip from Marathon Man we saw the other day? With the Nazi dentist or whoever it was?”

He sighed deeply. Just ignore him, he'll tire himself out in time. He's not even here, just a voice. “What does that have to do with… anything?”

“I'm just saying, you haven't been to this office before, why,  _ anything  _ could happen-”

“Remus, stop it.” Ugh, here comes the fun police. Logan’s voice cut through, sharp and stern and promptly putting an end to any game Remus wanted to play. “Thomas is going in for a routine check-up and cleaning, there is absolutely nothing to be concerned with-”

“Concerned? Who's concerned, I'm not concerned, are you concerned?” His voice was light and airy until he hit the last question. 

“Of course not. Are you aware of all the laws and regulations dental clinics have to abide by just in the state of Florida? The likelihood of Thomas’ dentist actually doing anything we saw in Marathon Man is infinitesimal.”

“Yeah, dude, back off, you're stealing my best material,” whined Edgy. “I called dibs on the ‘what if’ bits, you're hogging all my stuff.”

Remus huffed. They were getting better at this. “I'm gonna remember how it feels when they scrape that fish hook thing on his molars.”

“We know.”

“It's called a scaler.”

“It's like, it makes a noise that you can also hear in your skull-”

“It sure does, buddy.”

“Do you guys remember that one subreddit, with the one story about the dude whose dentist did half a root canal, but he left the nerve exposed, and then just-”

“Reeeeee-muuuuuuus~!” Called a singsong voice. “If you don't stop bothering Thomas I'm gonna tell everyone what your favourite Disney movie is~!”

(Spoiler alert: it was neither dark nor disturbing, despite what the duke would have you believe.)

… WELL. Princey was just REALLY leaning into this big brother schtick, wasn't he? Of course, that was hardly surprising, he'd taken to rough play like a pornstar to fucking, had even beaten Remus in a game of Frying Pan Wars. His jaw still throbbed from that one. 

_ Yet ANOTHER thing he's better at than you. _

No matter. “Fine. I'll see you when you're trying to sleep, Thomas!”

“Can't wait,” Thomas replied halfheartedly, and away went Remus, back into the mindscape, leaving him in the capable hands of Virgil and Logan. 

~~~

When Remus returned to the mindscape, he was immediately reminded how much he hated everything. 

He couldn't explain why the rage hit him so hard in that exact moment. Maybe it was the perfectly lined up hallway of different coloured doors, each plastered with a different side’s sign. And there was his, right next to Princey’s. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe Roman’s threat, his brother being his usual obnoxious self and threatening to expose his Mary Poppins adoration to everybody was what pissed him off. That made sense. He'd just have to beat him up later. 

_ Or maybe a certain little pathetic loser is just feeling all whiny because he doesn't want to go to the dentist,  _ crooned a voice from the back of his head he'd nearly forgotten about. 

_ Shut up. _

_ Do you think Roman would whine like this? No wonder they don't want you around. You make everything so hard.  _

_ I said shut UP!!  _ He kicked a nearby wall on his way back to his bedroom, sending a vase wobbling. It didn't break. With that, the duke slammed the door (it caught something and bounced back) and threw himself on the bed, thinking about how Thomas never sent Roman away, how Roman always got to stay and bant with the others, oh yes, Roman was just so  _ funny  _ and  _ handsome  _ and  _ perfect  _ and  _ cool _ -

“Heya, kiddo.”

He jumped, only moderately surprised by the Dad Side’s sudden presence in his doorframe. Of course. If you were a little perturbed in Thomas's head, all you had to do was sigh and he'd be there in his cat onesie with that sad little smile. 

“Hello. Come back for more disgusting drivel?”

He chuckled. As if he found Remus charming. Why didn't he just condescend like Snakey? Snakey didn't hide behind niceties and cute nicknames. Snakey let him know exactly how dumb he was. How hated he was. 

“What are you doing here?” Patton never came into the Dukedom, something about it being ‘too scary.’ Ridiculous. He'd seriously toned down the fake blood splatters on the wall, his torture weapons were stowed in their boxes now, and hadn't missed the dart board with Princey’s face on it once, just to get Logan to quit whining about plaster damage. He even pulled the darts out when he was done! Maybe it was the three wall-to-wall shelves above his bed, containing his sex toy collection. Probably that. 

“I'm hiding out in here, too. I don't like to catalogue this stuff, that's all Logan’s Department.”

“Thought you did stuff from Thomas's memory.” And gave the other losers emotional support. Not him, though, he was demented and twisted by nature. You don't need to support the leaning tower of Pisa. 

“Logan does doctor stuff, I do friends and family stuff. I tried to stay last time, and then they had to fill a cavity and just-” he shuddered, and Remus wished he could've enjoyed the discomfort on his face. “... a little too icky for me.”

Remus blinked. Don't show anything. Don't let him know you get it. Just stare and make him feel uncomfortable. “Did you want something,  _ daddy? _ ” That nickname always earned him at least a shudder. He may not have understood what adultery meant, but Patton knew exactly how many connotations that word had. 

Nope. “I just wanted to say it's okay, I don't really like the dentist either. There's nothing wrong with being a scaredy cat.”

The accusation made the duke bristle like a cat (ha). Finally. Something at which he could unleash some pent up frustration! 

“Scared?” He uttered dangerously. “ _ Me?” _

“Wasn't talking to your toy octopus, kiddo.”

He sprung up from his bed and within the next step was merely inches from Patton’s face. 

“You listen to me, you pompous pun-making pussy,” he hissed, “first, I do  _ not  _ have a toy octopus. Roman refused to leave behind the stuffed animal bullshit, not me. Second, I  _ love  _ watching this shit. If I could work my will, I'd get out there and watch all the gory details myself, I'd see how far Mr. Not-A-Doctor can go without anaesthetic until someone stopped him or Tommy-boy passed out from shock and blood loss, ooooh I bet there's  _ so  _ much blood, I would  _ love  _ to be up there, right now, recording the sound that hook-thingy makes when it's carving plaque and tartar off of  _ exposed bone  _ or that sucking noise that goes through his entire head as they  _ pluck out his teeth one by one.” _

He was maliciously delighted to see the living embodiment of Thomas’s morality look just a bit perturbed at this very hostile, very descriptive fantasy of what might happen. When he found his voice again, he said, “yup. But you're in here.”

“Because Logan and Virgil sent me here, probably because they knew fully well how bad things could get if I was involved. I'm going to have to settle for getting some memories myself later, but I  _ am  _ going to get them, because  _ I am not scared.”  _ He spat the last word as if it tasted bad. 

He didn't know what reaction he wanted. Maybe for Patton to start crying. To watch his face crumple in terror and anguish at the possibility of his  _ poor little Thomas  _ coming home mutilated and in agony. That would’ve been hilarious. 

Instead, Patton nodded, offering a tiny smile. “Okay, kiddo. Whatever you say. I'm gonna go make some tea, be in the kitchen if you need, okay?”

“If I say yes, will you leave my room sooner?”

“Only if you tidy up in here.”

“I will remove the dildos from the floor, but the dildos will NOT be leaving.”

Patton giggled, gave his cheek a soft pinch and a little pat, and with that he was gone. Remus waited until the moment he was out of earshot to grumble, “and I'm not a ‘kiddo.’ I'm Duke Remus.”

But in spite of being incorrectly titled, he did pick up a few of the mating substitutes strewn about the ground and put them back on his shelf. Finally, he returned to his unmade bed, pulling the sheets and blankets back into some semblance of order. In doing so, he unearthed a stuffed green octopus, whose sewn moustache was still attached, though it was a bit unkempt. Just like her daddy. He stroked it with his fingers and put it up on his pillows. 

That done, Remus fell back onto the bed and continued to pout. He wanted to be up on the surface, watching and listening to memories he would have to see second hand later. He wanted to see Thomas, uneasy and uncomfortable, in a way that was only funny when it happened to him. 

Was Emo really pitching the suggestions he'd used? They'd probably landed better. They always took the stuff Virgil said seriously. They only started to take him seriously after he started ringing the alarm bells. 

Somehow, he drifted off. It was the hazy sort of nap where you aren't asleep, not really, you're just lying there so still and so silent that you approximate sleep. But at the same time, you're also awake and thinking, and if you're lucky, it's just nonsense that doesn't make any sense. 

But of course, if you're Remus, you're going to start affecting yourself with the thoughts you saved for Thomas, like an idiot, and ruminating on the various lessons Snakey gave you on how to destroy your body and put it back together. 

Lessons on what hurt the most when you destroyed it, repeated reassurances that Sides can't die. What humans hate to see more than anything. Madness, can you rip off your ears? Good boy, good, now put them back on. Madness, can you break this bone? Fix it, now. Madness, can you cut your eyelids, Madness, can you take a bite of this stick of deodorant?

Yes, he could. He could do everything Snakey wanted, he was everything Snakey wanted, he wasn’t pathetic like Paranoia, he could take orders and agony and love it. 

Until a different lesson came into play. 

A heavy, metal tool forced into his hands. A pair of pliers curled in his fingers. He could still feel the weight in his palms, could still see that smirk he wanted to both sock and make out with. Scaly skin, a little chuckle,  _ Madness can you eat your own teeth? _

No. He couldn't.

Pulling. He remembered pulling, the taste of blood in his mouth, followed by begging,  _ please Sir I can't do it. _

_ Of course you can. Try again. Pull harder.  _

_ I can't I can't no Sir listen I really can't don't make me- _

A knock on the doorframe interrupted his frantic train of thought. Roman, the smug son of a bitch, was in his doorframe, looking confused and stupid (concerned?).

“Whaddup, your Lack-of-Grace.”

“Need something, Your Travesty?” He did not feel up to this. However much he loved these little word duels, he just wasn't in the mood now. The memory, possibly the fantasy, had made his jaw ache with phantom pains that made a chin-wag difficult.

“Just came to check. Heard a few suspiciously weird noises, thought I'd-”

“Roman, weird noises are basically my thing. What if I was watching my special videos? Hm??”

“Well then I'm sure you would've delighted in any lasting psychological trauma you would've caused me. But for real, what's up?”

“Nothing.”

“Somehow I doubt that. But, hey, you're the Dookie expert, not me. Listen, Thomas is probably gonna be getting in the chair soon, and he's gonna need a couple daydreams while he's in there-”  _ a lovely reminder that he will always choose your daydreams over mine, even though mine are better-  _ “and I figured, since I'm not gonna be around to play, here.”

He tossed Remus a bag of candy. Hard, sour jawbreakers that Thomas had when he was 13. He'd hated them, but they were a gift, so he'd had to eat them. 

Remus absolutely loved them. 

“I thought the  _ winner  _ of frying pan wars was supposed to get a prize?” He asked, confused and clearly a bit taken aback. But he definitely wasn't touched. No really.

“Well, I figured you lost so unfairly yesterday, that I had to do...something. It was severely unheroic of me to go for the face, and I figured I should… you know. Apologize, I guess.” 

Remus stared down at the little green balls. Could he be hearing this right? Roman felt  _ bad _ he'd hit him in the face? His laughter and mocking, “oh man up, discount Disney” still made him burn with rage, and yet, with this stupidest of gestures, the burning was… less burning. 

Roman shifted for a few seconds, the guilt of watching as Remus clutched his face and cried  _ ow ow ow  _ that still permeated the memory of that game utterly unacceptable. He cleared his throat. “And, anyway, my prize is just being the less-ugly twin.”

Burning was back. “Cork it, Knight Dorkus!”

“How ‘bout you cork it, Upside Dweeb?”

Before another insult could be hurled, Roman sang, “byyyyyyeee~!” And off he went to entertain Thomas through the drudgery of dental duties. 

Remus made a noise that was half growl, half groan as he opened the package of jawbreakers. At least he had these, he thought as he popped one into his mouth and set about chewing. They'd probably last him for a few-

Hey, that wasn't right.

As he chewed, favouring his left as always, he noticed something odd. The phantom ache didn't leave as he ignored it. It should have, that was how it worked. But then, if it wasn't leaving… Cautiously, he lined up the ball on his teeth and bit down to test his theory. 

Ow!!

He released tension immediately, shifting the sphere of sugar off of the sudden, sharp pain. 

Well, that had never happened before. Was this a punishment of some kind? Try to scare Thomas before his dentist appointment, your favourite snack hurts to eat now? It wasn't as if there was anyone he could ask, Virgil wouldn't get near him if he didn't have to, and it wasn't like the others had any point of reference. 

He sighed. Seemed he was sucking on these, as society intended. Not that he was  _ opposed _ to sucking. 

Maybe the punishment isn't forever, Remus assured himself. Maybe in a few days, you'll be able to cronch as normal, once you've learned your lesson. 

Yes, this would have been very funny to watch happen to Thomas. But here he was, forced to conform to societal ideals, and he wasn't laughing one bit. 


	2. Hop on the pain train, Chew Chew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus tries to find something he can eat, as everyone around him wonders what the deal is with all the tantrums all of a sudden. They all just assume he's having a fuckin' D A Y.

The punishment, as it turned out, was forever. 

And as the week progressed, it only intensified. Not being able to chew hard candy, as was his preference, was one thing. But soon enough, he couldn't bear to bite down on chalk. He'd had to for a video he was in, in a bit involving him eating a giant pack of sidewalk chalk, and each bite was worse than the last. As soon as he left, he was in his room, clutching his face and rocking back and forth, barely able to keep from whining. The ache throbbed like a pulse in his mouth for what felt like hours, but finally it dulled down to something he could basically ignore. 

What he couldn't ignore was when he found himself unable to eat less firm things. 

It first happened when Logan called them all down to breakfast one morning, pancakes or something. He’d managed two bites of flour discs before deciding he wasn’t hungry and retreating to the Dukedom. 

When he, inevitably, became hungry after the fifth or sixth time he mowed down villages of imaginary civilians, he attempted, in vain, to eat a peanut butter sandwich. A sandwich that he abandoned after only a few bites and the taste of blood in his mouth. From there, the rest of the week was spent trying things soft enough to consume but with enough normalcy to them so as not to arouse (pfft) the resident idiots to the fact that their punishment was incredibly effective. 

All of his attempts brought forth painful, aggravating failure. Oatmeal? Impossible, boiled or dry. A stick of butter? Stick it up your butt, it's useless in the other end. Ice cream? Ha! More like I  _ scream.  _ Internally… ugh, even Patton would've hated that one. 

Eventually, he found himself pacing in his room, yet again, trying to decide what to do. He was incredibly hungry. He'd all but forgotten what most food tasted like. He was starting to wonder if they'd tell him when he'd be allowed to eat again, or if he was, but he was just too dumb to figure out what he was allowed. 

Deodorant, he decided after much deliberation, was soft. It was smooth, it was essentially compacted powder. It had to be acceptable. Right?

He went into the bathroom with all the menace and poise he could muster and threw open the cabinet, grabbing the bar he reserved for this exact purpose, pulled the cap off and took a bite. 

_ Cronch the forbidden chocolate _

_ No, I don't have  _ time  _ to eat a bar of soap _

He managed exactly five chews on the left of his mouth before something began frantically informing him, “hey, Remus, buddy? You shouldn't be doing this. Stop.” Why was he suddenly so aware of the sound of his teeth clinking together?

Frustrated, Remus shifted the half chewed mass to his right. No good there, it still hurt, why was he still being punished? He hadn't bothered Thomas in days, and it still hurt, why wouldn't it stop hurting, it was  _ never going to stop hurting- _

“Are you  _ fucking  _ kidding me?!” He screamed, throwing the bar at the wall. The duke spat the wad of chewed-up deodorant out in the sink and stormed out, slamming the door to his bedroom and ignored the look Roman gave him as he passed. 

Roman had been in the middle of writing yet another fanfiction, which was definitely not the same fiction he'd written four times, when he heard the Duke’s little profanity-laden tantrum down the hall. He knew dismissing these things as tantrums wasn't right (thanks Padre) but, come on. His little scream was even followed by stomping feet and the slamming of the door to the Dukedom. What else was he supposed to call that?

Such un-royal behaviour. Really, Remus, you're a duke, now  _ act _ like it. The prince would certainly never throw such a ridiculous tantrum. Please ignore the fact that he definitely would, and did. 

After a brief moment of basking in his own maturity (which was super mature), he decided to go and see what had instigated this little outburst of emotion. And off he went to tap on his baby brother’s door. 

“Leave me alone!!” Came the muffled voice of the duke from behind it.

“Aww, that's my line, dookie! And I haven't used it in forever, so why don't I pop in there so you can annoy me?”

“Roman, I'm not kidding, NOT FUCKING NOW!!!”

… woah. That one sounded genuinely upset. Unroyal as it was, he had to admit Remus sounded like he was actually dealing with something that really bothered him. But  _ nothing _ bothered him. 

“Uh, is everything Gucci, Remus?”

“No, now leave me alone so I can be a knockoff in peace!”

Roman would've responded, except there was a significantly calmer voice from behind him. “Roman?”

Logan stood near the bathroom, looking pale and sweaty and incredibly worried. “Could you come with me, please? Quickly?” Then before he could answer, the logical voice of reason took his hand and led him to the bathroom with haste. 

“What are you doing, I'm in the middle of brother stuff!” Roman complained indignantly as he was dragged into the bathroom. 

“Well, then this should be of concern to you. Look.” Logan pointed into the sink, at a chewed up mass of something white, that was marbled with something that looked…

Roman felt his stomach sink and turn. It looked horrifically like-

“Blood,” Logan supplanted him. “There is a mouthful of bloody deodorant in the sink. And no, don't smell it, it smells ungodly.”

There were a great many things Roman could've chosen to reply to that with, but he chose, “I didn't do it.”

Logan sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. “I know  _ you  _ didn't. There is only one side that regularly uses this bathroom and also eats deodorant.”

There was a pause, as the pieces slowly fit together. “... Logan, are you trying to say-?”

“At this precise moment, I am not trying to say anything. But I do have a hypothesis. When did Thomas last receive a visit from your brother?”

“Uh… the nightmares after his last dentist appointment, I think. He's been in his room doing whatever he does in that tragic kingdom ever since.”

“Hm.” Logan furrowed his brow, considering the ramifications of this. “Thank you, Roman. That is all I need. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

With that, both sides went their separate ways, one far more confused than the other. Logan at least had a direction to go to test his theory. He needed to get in the kitchen. He had to learn how to cook dinner.

~~~

Getting rid of Roman was much harder than it had been the first time. He banged and rattled on the door, rambling on and on and on about stuff that Remus wasn't listening to. He screamed for Roman to go away after twenty minutes of ungodly noise. Then he went silent. And Roman must've thought he had gone to sleep, because the noise stopped soon enough after-

_ Tap tap tap _

“Hey, psycho?” Said a tired, tentative voice through the door. 

Remus said nothing. He'd been avoiding Paranoia since he'd arrived, unable to meet his gaze. They couldn't just pretend everything was perfectly normal between them, not after his little  _ “oooh I have a super duper fun new way to mess with Thomas wait right here madness I'll be back before you know I'm gone you stupid idiot!” _ How could they just pretend they were as close as they had been?

“... come on, bud, I know you're in there. Princey asked me to check on you.”

He ignored the kid, and eventually he gave up and presumably went to report back to Roman. With him gone, Remus grabbed a pillow, pressed his face into if and began half-moaning, half sobbing. 

Why were they still punishing him? Was this part of the plan, for him to starve to death? No, stupid, Sides can't die. How was he supposed to make it stop? How many apologies could he make? He was sorry, so sorry,  _ please I'm sorry, please stop, it hurts it hurts it hurts I just wanna eat again, please stop it hurts- _

_ “You're a disease, Madness, of course the things you do are going to hurt. There now, see? You just weren't pulling hard enough. Put it back, now, and try to get it out again. If you can't, I'll pull another~” _

_ Pulling, pulling, sucking, breaking, they're going to pull your teeth out, can you taste the blood- _

“Roman, Remus, Virgil, soup’s on! Please come downstairs!”

Logan’s voice was a blissful rainshower in the endless desert that was his churning constant train of thought. With no more excuses (no skipping dinner, another of Patton's little rules), Remus stood from bed and walked out the door, pretending everything was fine. 

“Dude, you look horrible.”

Virgil would've startled anyone else by appearing at their elbow with such a comment. Remus, however, merely mildly observed him. 

“Why, thank you, Virgil, that is my whole deal.”

“No, like… horrible even for you. You okay?”

“As peachy as the peach emoji!”

Virgil didn't look a bit convinced. But he did throw up his hoodie and head downstairs with that odd, judgemental look on his face. Thank god, at least  _ one  _ of these idiots still knew to stay away from him. 

He knew Remus was being punished, right? He had to. Why put on the show of not understanding,  _ he _ had punished them more times than either had fingers. How many times had he grounded Virgil, sending him six feet into the front yard with only a thought? Taken the ridiculous doodles Remus had penned and ripped them to shreds, chiding him for being weak? Surely this, slowly but surely taking away one’s ability to eat and speak and sleep and do… anything, really, was downright tame by the standards of the different Sides. Had Virgil ever had to suffer through any punishment like his? No, no way. Not Patton’s favourite. Not his  _ precious little anxious baby.  _ Ugh. 

He'd been Liar’s favourite. 

_ Oh were you? Were you really? Or did he just use you a bit more often? _

The kitchen smelled strongly of oregano and tomato, and Patton was beaming as Logan set out bowls of something red and thick and steamy at each of their respective seats. 

“No apron, padre?”

“Didn't need one, Romey, seeing as Logan made dinner,” Patton said calmly. Then with an increasingly proud smile, “and a  _ dad joke! _ ”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he almost smiled. “Yes, yes, I've actually made soup, ‘soup’s on’, hahaha it's very funny.” Clearly suppressing chuckling, he took his own seat and took his spoon in one hand and a pen in the other. 

“Wait, you seriously made this?” Virgil looked thunderstruck. 

“Indeed. I advise you to eat it before it gets cold.”

And indeed he had. What Remus had half been hoping were bowls of blood were actually bowls of steaming tomato soup. Patton’s recipe if he wasn't mistaken. And for once, he was relieved to have to attend these ridiculous family dinners, as despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to find a single thing the punishment allowed him to eat in days. And, hey, soup! Soup was liquid. Soup meant no chewing. No chewing meant no pain! 

… Right?

Well, you'd think that's how it works, but apparently not. 

He took up the spoon on his left (hm, Logan remembered, that's neat) and eagerly took up the task of eating. He made it two bites in before he noticed. 

Pain.

Every mouthful of the blazing liquid was pure pain. He tried to slow down, half hoping that if it cooled off, it would hurt less, but then his hunger kicked in, and with a curse, he began eating as quickly as he could, half hoping that getting it over faster would make it hurt less. 

“Everything alright, kiddo?”

He glanced up, and even he would admit, the look of concern Patton was giving him was so genuine it would've put the snake’s to shame. 

“Of course not, I'm at least half left,” he grumbled, continuing to force down spoonful after spoonful of pain broth. 

“Now, while that was very good, Dad jokes can't always distract me, kiddo. They also can't distract me from a certain potty mouth crying over un-spilled soup.”

Had he been crying? His face was soaked but he assumed he was just sweating. The soup had been incredibly hot. Yet neither princey nor emo complained. 

Logan nodded, scribbling frantically in his notebook. “Yes, I've also noticed, you seem to be in significant discomfort.”

“Oh, you know I'm down for a little bit of pain-”

“In fact, you have been in similar such discomfort at several other points during this week.”

“Name one.”

“The chalk eating bit during the filming of our latest Sanders Sides video.”

“Name three.”

“I found a peanut butter sandwich uneaten on the counter, except for one bite. You did not finish a bowl of ice cream you stole from Roman-“

“I knew it.”

“- and, you have failed to attend every meal since the last time I cooked breakfast.”

“Uh, I've also heard you crying in your room for the past three or four nights, if that counts,” Virgil piped up. 

The glare Remus gave him only rivaled that of those who were about to murder you. “It doesn't.”

“Also, we found your bloody, chewed up deodorant in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, aim for the toilet next time, okay?”

“Not the point.” One could get whiplash from how quickly Logan was shifting his focus from Remus to Roman and back again. “It positively  _ reeked  _ of infection. Given that, paired with your irritability in characteristic to your typical pain response, as well as significant swelling to the lower left quadrant of your face, I hypothesis that-”

Finally, the darkness and madness that lurked within Thomas sanders could take no more of this silliness. He flung his spoon as hard as he could at Logan, which he dodged without so much as changing his facial expression (or lack thereof). 

“I'm not as stupid as you give me credit for, you know,” he snarled. 

“I can tell. That spoon’s trajectory was perfectly calculated, if I had not moved-”

“ _ I get it, okay?! _ ” He finally screamed, standing up. “I'm not a fucking idiot, I get the concept! I was annoying Thomas, now I'm going to starve to death! Justice is fucking served! Can we at least stop playing dumb, I know what you're fucking doing!!!”

“Oh. Well, if that's the case, Remus, why don't we head up to my room and take care of this?” 

“No!” He snarled. “So help me I'll rip off your hands and shove ‘em up your butt!!”

“But-”

“ _ You can't have them, they’re mine!!!” _

Finally, the father figure figment stood up, walking over to the other side of the table with confusion etched into every line of his face. “Remus, kiddo, what are you-?” Patton had reached to move Remus’s hair from his face, only to have Remus stomp off upstairs. 

Why weren't their faces funny?

Why weren’t their tortured, confused and hurt expressions funny anymore?!

_ Maybe this is just more of the punishment. Now you can't even do what you're supposed to do.  _


	3. Logan’s Crowning Achievement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roman and Logan decide to finally deal with Remus’s issue, and a minor miscommunication and misuse of colloquialisms invokes a tantrum of biblical proportions. Have fuuuun!!

Remus slammed the door and released a primal scream he hadn't realized he'd needed to release. He didn't even care that screaming added to the hurting; he needed it. Oh, how he NEEDED that scream. Everything was just so stupid and painful and terrible and it was supposed to be funny, why wasn't it funny?!  
  


_Because it's happening to you. Because you can't be pathetic enough to make them stop the punishment. Because you’re **nothing**.   
  
_

Pain. He needed pain. From himself, not from whatever it was they were doing to him. He grabbed himself by the finger, right index, and twisted as hard as he could. It should've crackled, broken, and shattered, making that funny noise when it broke. There was nothing. No cracking, just, the raw twisting sensation like the first time Lies had ever asked him to do this. 

_“Twist harder, you pathetic boy. Come on, Madness, how are we supposed to get Thomas’s attention if you can't even do this? Do I need to get the hammer?”_

Eventually, he gave up and sank to the floor, clutching his face and blinking hard against burning eyes. No, he wasn't going to start crying. He wasn't that pathetic yet. 

“Remus.” Roman’s voice was strong and cut through the door like a saw. 

Silence. 

“Remus.” Logan’s voice this time, cold and calm. 

Silence. 

“Come on, Hans of the Southern Bile, we can't very well ignore that display. We all saw it.”

Silence. 

“Come on. You can't stay in there foreve-”

“ _Why not?!_ ” Remus practically screamed, not moving from his position on the floor. “I'm going to starve anyway, why not leave me alone?! Out of sight, out of mind, right?!”

Logan spoke up. “You aren't out of mind. You’re still in Thomas’s mind. And as long as you're here, we can't have you cringing every time you eat or going hungry, it's not optimal.”

Remus moaned. “Then why'd you think _this_ was a good idea, brainiac? Was it your idea? It seems like the sort of thing you'd come up with.”

“Wh… what are you even-...? Never mind, yelling through the door is getting us nowhere.”

“It's unlocked.”

At this revelation, the door was tested. It creaked open slightly. 

“Well. If you don't mind, Roman, I'm gonna get my room ready for your brother. You try to talk some sense into him.”

“Can do, Teach, we’ll be over in two shakes of an elephant's ear.”

Into his room he came, unperturbed by the snacks strewn about that Remus had attempted and given up on. There were a lot more than three instances. 

“What's he doing in his room?” If Remus had been less angry, he might have made a joke about kinkiness or of Logan being forward. But not now. 

“Creating an ideal oasis of oral health, my swollen-mouthed sibling. I guess there's something wrong with your teeth, and they're like the one thing on you that are okay to look at.”

“No. No, Roman, listen, it's some kind of punishment,” Remus began frantically. It was vital that the prince knew this. “They're doing- it's for trying to scare Thomas the other day.”

“If it's on that side? No, I'm pretty sure it's from Frying Pan Wars, bud.”

“I can get punished for losing that?!”

“What? No, Remus that's… ugh, never mind. Look, Logan just wants to fix what's wrong with you. I need to at least get you in the room.” 

The prince had no way of knowing how frightened he was, how truly, desperately terrified of what he was supposed to have done in Logan's room. But whether or not Roman knew that hearing that news set the Duke immediately on edge, it did, his grip on his carpet tightening significantly. He longed for his weapon. Or maybe a gun with one round.

“What’s he going to do to me?” 

Roman shrugged. “I dunno. Fix whatever needs fixing? Fill some cavities? Have you not been to a dentist before?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Yikes, that bad, huh? Well, don't you worry, my mopey-dopey monarch,” he added that in a sort of croon, taking one of the duke’s hands in his own. “Big brother will hold your hand the whole time.” He gently kissed the knuckles of the hand he held for emphasis. 

“We're twins,” Remus grumbled, though he blushed. “... you're going to make me do this, aren't you?”

“After that little display? Absolutely. We can't just leave this alone.”

So. They'd messed up their punishment and now Logan needed to fix it. Was it supposed to only last a short while or somehow be worse? Whatever needed fixing felt like it could be done with the snap of a finger but… whatever. Best to concede the punishment than to scream to the void that it was unfair. So, with that, he allowed Roman to tug him to his feet and drag him to Logan’s room. It felt like he was being led to an execution, except there would be no axman, nononono, that was _faaar_ too merciful.

Remus’s death would come at the will of rusty, metal pliers. 

“Oh, don't pout so, Remus, it's not becoming. Really, it's just an hour or so of lying in a chair. Nothing tragic. Unless it hurts,” he added seriously. “If it hurts you tell us.”

_I've tried that, princey, it doesn't work._

Logan’s oasis of oral health, as it turned out, was an exact copy of Thomas’s dentist’s theatre of torture. Nice, by the standards it was abiding by, no doubt changed by the embodiment of logical reasoning, every late-night Google fact and tidbit from fanfic research to be perfect. The walls, rather than the beige they were in reality, had adopted the greyish-blue hues of Logan’s room, and various posters on the walls had been changed into pictures Patton had given him. 

Logan himself had changed into a pair of navy scrubs (of course with his logo embroidered in the pocket, because how could he not?) and, as soon as the two brothers entered, Thomas’ memory and intellect closed the door with a thought. Remus heard the click behind him as loudly as a gunshot. 

“Alright. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, because that is how time works. Remus, sit.” He gestured to the chair, a deep red leather that could have easily been mistaken for a regular chair if not for the… _surgical lights_ affixed above it. 

Remus shifted his stance for a moment, then finally conceding that he did have to do this, walked over and sat as instructed, boots clicking against the hard linoleum tile. His eyes remained glued to it for as long as they could; Logan’s ideal office had a drain, and somehow that was worse. 

The logical side of Thomas reached into a box and withdrew a pair of gloves, which he put on with a flair and showmanship that just _told_ you he'd been waiting until the last possible moment to don them. They went on with a snap like a cracking whip, and Remus flinched; why did sight and sanity cease to exist as Logan peered down at him like he was a frog pinned down for dissection? He'd ripped off his fingernails for christs sake!

Roman, true to his word, had hold of his hand. That was one way to restrain him, Remus supposed. The lights were near blinding but he didn't dare protest. Roman wouldn't protest. Roman would adore the attention. 

“Presumably, you know how this works, Remus, but I will provide guidance.” One hand took his jaw, gently but firmly, and the other came into view with a mirror. Fine, whatever, that he could put up with. “Open wide.”

“And don't bite, Duke Weasel-Face.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but complied, stretching his jaw wide as requested. Logan dove in almost immediately, tilting his head so he could no longer make eye contact and diving in with his mirror. 

“Hm… not too bad, wide spacing, decent overall- ah. There's the culprit.” The mirror glided along the inside of his cheek as Logan maneuvered. “Moderate infection, breaching the dentine, at least two other cavities… hm.”

“What ‘hm’?” Asked Roman.

“It looks like this crown is slightly chipped. This isn't just a natural tooth infection. Remus?”

The only noise he could make in response was “uh” and brainiac knew that. Why bother talking to him?

“Did something damage this tooth? Did you fall, use pliers-?”

“Uh…” Roman cleared his throat from the right. “I think this one is my fault.”

Logan raised an eyebrow in polite question. Or maybe he did. Remus couldn't fucking see. 

“See, uh… well, we were playing Frying Pan wars, and-”

“Frying Pan Wars.”

“It's where me and Remus run at each other with frying pans and, uh, whoever gets hit or loses their frying pan wins, I guess,” Roman explained hastily. “Patton said no swords and no maces, so… frying pans.”

“Uuhhh!!” Remus interjected, maybe to object that he could use his mace and Patton's silly ‘house rules’ couldn't stop him, or maybe he was just demanding that Roman stop explaining the nuances of their deeply complicated royal ritual. 

“And you successfully disarmed your brother and hit him in the face.” Okay, now Remus didn't even need to see. He could _hear_ the deadpan stare of ‘I-cannot-believe-you're-so-stupid’ in logans voice. 

“Well… yeah. That's basically it. But he got right back up, so I figured he was fine.”

Of course he was. There wasn't anything to fuss about, it was barely the worst punishment he'd had to endure, he'd once had to-

Pain, pain, _pain._ It exploded, white hot from his jaw with the telltale scraping he'd been planning to bother Thomas with. The duke whined, almost _screamed_ as he squirmed, kicked and tried fruitlessly to get Logan’s hand out of his mouth. 

Logan obliged, allowing Remus a brief moment of respite. “Fine, hm?”

“Why, what?” If these were just more slights about him being gross, Remus was going to hang this asshat with his own intestines. 

“You have an abscess in one of your teeth; most likely due to Roman hitting you in the face with a frying pan.” He added the last with a pointed stare at said prince. “it's not severe yet, but it could spread if we ignore it. Which is why I need your mouth open again.” He picked up the hook thing Remus had taunted them with mere days ago, leaning back in to do whatever it was he was doing. 

Logan furrowed his brow as he worked, taking note of how Remus winced every time he came close to the affected area. Why did none of these idiots ever mention when something was seriously wrong? What if this had been a symptom of a far less fixable problem? 

“You guys always do this,” he muttered under his breath as he worked. “I don't know how Patton stays so patient with all of you. When we don't have one of you collapsing from a fever, you're fighting with inner turmoil you won't discuss, or you've allowed papercuts to go gangrenous, honestly, getting you guys to do anything beneficial to your health is-” he finished with a huff, unable to find the correct words. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on who you ask, Roman was able to supply some. 

“Like pulling teeth?” Roman supplied in a quiet voice that matched his smart big brother’s tone. 

Logan almost laughed. “Yes. It is exactly like pulling teeth. Now shut up, I need to- Gah! _Remus!!”_

Logan had moved his hand at the exact second the jaws snapped closed, and Remus was now looking at them like a feral raccoon caught in a trap in the attic. Within half a second, Remus was back on his feet, not aware he'd shoved Logan into a wall, because Logan ceased to matter. Everything else seemed to stop existing that didn't bar his path to the exit. 

Remus had been mostly tuned out for the conversation, trying not to think about them, or the feeling of something cold and metal prodding the bones in his mouth where it hurt, it hurt, it _hurt oh god STOP._ But he didn't dare ask him to stop. However… then he heard two little words out of context. They may not have meant much, or meant anything, but his critical thinking skills had basically hit emergency shutoff, and there was nothing for it. 

At the utterance of those two simple words, he didn't care about the pain he was in anymore, or about the hunger that incessantly gnawed at him, or even the fact that he was just confirming what they thought of him, all that mattered was getting himself and all the parts of him out of the room. 

“Remus!” Roman scolded in that pompous, chastising voice he detested. The prince threw his body in front of the door at the same time Remus lunged for it, shoving him back and looking at him with a mixture of disappointment and exasperation. “Now, really, this is just getting silly! You get back in that chair this minute, or I'll-!”

But what he was going to do, he never said. He had half a second to react as Remus’s Morningstar came crashing down toward him. He managed to summon a regal-looking shield just before the impact came, then once it did, he threw it off and guarded with his own sword. They stood in a kind of standoff for some time, Roman with his sword held aloft and Remus fully prepared to bash his skull in. 

“Let me out,” he snarled quietly. 

“No,” said Roman calmly. “I’m sorry, but this is for your own good. Now get back in that chair or this shan’t be pretty.”

“Don’t care. Let me _out.”_

“I shan't! This needs to be addressed!”

“I must agree with Roman,” said Logan, joining the prince at the door. “Remus, if we don’t do something, the infection will spread and your teeth will rot and all fall out. While I believe you’d enjoy this experience, I find it imperative to tell you that this means you can’t bite any more dicks off for your collection.” As if that speech weren’t enough, Logan then took the opportunity to take him by the arm. He was being led back to the chair. “Now, come on. I promise this won't hurt.”

_Yes it will. You know this lie, Madness. You're not going to just_ let _this happen, are you?_

That really did it.

* * *

  
“Hey, dad? You think Remus is, like, okay?” Asked Virgil from his spot at the left sink, rinsing suds off of well-used bowls as Patton washed. 

“Ah, I'm sure he'll be just fine, kiddo. After all, he's got Dr. Logan and his big bro with him, they'll get this taken care of.”

“I dunno…”

“Yeah? Why's that?”

“It's just, he's always been a little… I dunno. _Funny_ about teeth.”

“He pulled out Logan’s teeth, he seemed okay.”

“Not other people's teeth, _his_ teeth. He's… I dunno, just, ever since I can remember, he's been really weird about it. You know his little tantrum before Thomas’s appointment? That's not the first time he's done… that.”

“Wait, really?” That seemed very odd. Remus very rarely re-used material, especially when it failed to get a reaction. 

“Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing. It’s… god, this isn’t gonna make any goddamn sense, but…” Virgil drew a slow, deep breath, the way he did when he was about to admit something he really didn’t want to (for instance, his name or the fact that deep down, he really liked the tickle parties Patton initiated). “... I think he's _scared_ it might _actually_ happen.”

Virgil braced himself for Patton to laugh, pinch his cheeks and tell him that that was stupid, that Remus wasn't scared of anything because he was Remus, but… to his shock, Patton nodded. 

“Yeah. That lines up. The other day I mentioned I didn't like the dentist either and he just… exploded.” He shrugged, handing over a final spoon and draining the sink. “I don't suppose-?”

“No, deceit never really kept up on that stuff with us,” Virgil shrugged. This in and of itself was true, but he remembered a time when Remus was ten and Virgil had been six, back when he'd still been Paranoia, the snake would take Remus up to his room to “play games,” and Remus always came back, giggling and broken and battered. The only time he'd really run out crying, pushing past Virgil to get to his room, had been a day when he'd been clutching his jaw, blood staining his shirt as Dee stood there and chuckled. 

Patton didn't need to hear that. 

“Well, I'm sure whatever's wrong, Roman and Logan have got everything han-”

  
  
  
  
  
  
“ _**L̵̨̢̛̛̛͓̝̟̬̋͆̒͛̏͋̓̾̌̑͒̂͋͒̓̒̀͊́̍̄̀̅̓͌͘̕͘͝͠Ę̵̧̛̗͈̩̮̻͓̰͈̼̥͙̾̓͊͌͐̀̀̊̂̅̓̒́͛̍̃̽̇̉̿͌́̇͛̀͌̃̋̃̀̋̅͑̽́̇̋̌͌̑͊̽̋̈̔͗̓͘͠͠ͅȚ̶͑͂̽̓͂̽̓́͂̀̀̏͋̋͑̚͜ ̶̢̡̧̛̗̜̼̭̙̥̗̣͍̺̜͎͙̞̼̣̺̼͂́̐̉̓͆͋̾̓̋́͛̽̆̀͆́̀̍̽̓͂́͒͗̀̈́̏̊̑̂̈́̆̋́̓̔͗̓̾̄̒̀̈́͊͘̕̕M̶̧̢̰̙̹̱̠̳̯̖̹̲͚̝̗̲̫̂̈́̄͐̑̑̑̎̓́͑̽̔̿̈́͗̋̊̌̕̚̕Ę̷̨̢̧̧̻̖͇̞̫̙͓̺̗̬̲̲̫̞̟̲̣̣̬̤̺̤̗͓̯͚̺̳͈̝̞̻̝͚͍͔̠̫̺͍̠͒͒̆̉̅̎̈́̾̒͌̑̈́͗̐̄͆͒̊̿̾̈́̉͊̉̏͑͒̌̚͘͘͜͝͝͝ͅ ̵̨̨̧̥̟̹̠͖̻̪̯̤̣͔͈̼̪̥̭̣͇͇̲̭̮͎̱̗̩̰̈́̑̈́̇͋̏̈̈́̈̑͋̆̊̊͋͌͂͆̌̌̀̃͂̉̑̈͌̈̓̅͊̚̚͘͜͠Ö̶̧̳͔̬̜͉̜̪̝̹́͊̊̐̒̄͌̒̑͗͑̒͊̈́̐͘͝Ų̴̢̨̢̺͎͙͈̠̜͚̹̥̘͈̭̭͔͔͕̥̳̱̀̇̃̈̑̐̂̋ͅṪ̷̨̛̛͉̪̹͔̹̼͊̓̊̓̒̍̄́̄͒̾͒̑͘̚͠!̷̨̨̢̨̱̬̳̣̻͕̞̠̥̝̝̜̗̤͚̼̱̗͓͈͔͛̎̒͜!̵̢̛̛͚̙͈̗̩̱͕͍̖͓̦̲̼̼̠̼̙͋̈́͐͒̆̀̽͂̾̎͋͐͒̋̒̍̏̈̓̃͛́̊̎͂̉̓͒̂̎͒̚̚̚͝!̸̛̛̤͙͔͇͎̱̜̯̪͈̥̼̟̅̑͗̄̆͐̌̃́͆̾̿̅̅̊́͒͑͆͂̽̀̐̄̂̅̀̔͐͐̈̍̈́͋̕͘̕͠͝͠͝!̵̧̛̛̟̬̜̺͔̙̙̮͚̺̏̽̉̎̅̅̾̽́̽̑̀͋̋̈́̀̀͛̈́̈́̽̈̾̀̈̎͆͘͝͝!̸̨̧̡̹͈̹̙̗̖̦̮̖̦͕͕͍̩̹̬̙͇̬̖͖̘̫̲̗͎͎͓͖̦͓̜̖͉̫̟̫̘̮̫̬̬̑͛͑̾̄̑́̿̋̇͒͊̏̌̇͋̃̀̑̓͊̉̊̉̏͜͜͜͠͝͝ͅ!̸͓̭̩̻͕͕͕͓͋̏̿̉̃̿̃͐̍͒͆̀͑̈́̆̓̿̋̀̓́̕̕!̸̧̧̡̡̡̡̛̺̪͙͚̻̘̥̳̼̠͎̺̹̼͈͎̳̻̳̼͖̫̱̖̲͎͇̩̟̟̞͙̰̣͓̻͔̥̦̙͙̩̹̲͔̱̉͊̉́̀̎́͆̀̄̀̍͋̉̀͛̈́̔̒̐̎̇͐͛̓̓͛̌̈̽̇̔̉̀̒̈́̏̐͘̕͘͜͜͜͝ͅ!̷̡̼̭̦̜̤͕̱͉̩̠̻̣̥̤̱̤̻͖͇̣̳̝̺̪̞̫̹̝̭̣̺͎̠̦̪̩͇͚͎̗̝̪̝̲̮̤̫͓̥̙̫̟̹͖̓̾͒̀̑̑̌̈́͜͜͝** ” _

  
  
The scream cut through the air like the heated blade of a sword. And from the sounds of the struggle above them, metal clanging and clonging against metal, there was at least one sword involved. 

“Remus! Stop this immediately!” Demanded logan’s voice, muffled and terrified. 

“En guarde! Parry! Evade! Block! _Ow!!_ ” The fact that Roman somehow maintained his dramatic flair, even while being attacked, should have been impressive. But it wasn't, it was just background noise to the true symphony of terror.

Remus, through it all, was screaming and screaming and would not stop. Over and over, demands to be released that were, presumably, ignored. 

Patton and Virgil locked eyes for a single terrified second, then ran upstairs. 

. 


	4. Getting To the Root of the Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to make you wait so long- this one got away from me. I had to split it in two. I hope you like it!

“Virge,” panted Patton as they raced upward, “Remus’s room. Get his dolly. Stuffed octopus.”  
  


“Why?”

”Trust me, meet me inside!”

Without another word, the two split up as Patton tried the doorknob for Logan's room. Locked, of course.  
  
A loud, resounding **CLONNGGG** hit the ground.

“Ha! Got it!”

“Grab him! Get him in the chair!”

“Right, I've got him- no, Remus, hold- ow!!” Another scuffling, and several sharp cries from Roman. 

With few other choices, he sank down and in, and then nearly out once again as he dodged something thrown at him. 

The room was chaos. Logan’s walls had been dented during the fight, leaving massive, freckled craters where Remus had swung and clearly missed. The door was untouched. Roman must have kept him away from it. Various things had been strewn about amid the screaming, including the duke’s big spiky metal ball on a stick, a few boxes of rubber gloves and- ohhhh my god, were those his drawings? Logan had _kept_ them?? Oh my god that’s so cute, I-!!!

Focus, dad. 

Focus, because Roman had his arms around his brother and was hanging on for dear life, arms pinned beneath the tree trunks Roman maintained so well as he kicked and screamed. But it wasn't a normal ‘temporarily-distract-everybody-in-this-room’ scream that Patton had learned was fine and okay. It was a blood-curdling, ‘help-me-I'm-about-to-die’ scream, followed by terrible thought after terrible thought, forcefully projected into the heads of everybody in the room. Unfortunately, this did little, and Logan had once hypothesized that Remus couldn't control when it happened, and the imagery of sex, murder and debauchery went ignored as Remus fought tooth and nail to get free. 

“ _NO!!!_ ” screamed the Duke, as his brother dragged him back to the death chair, no longer caring that it hurt, though it did, it did **it hurt it hurt it hurt** , only caring that he needed to get himself out of the office now, which Roman seemed to refuse him. “NO NO NO NO STOP PLEASE NO **_NO!!!”_ **

**_“_ **You drop the denials, dookie!” Roman nearly snarled. The prince was currently attempting to wrestle a squirming, screaming Duke back into the chair he'd presumably escaped from, as Logan tried to repair massive dents in the walls caused by that big swinging ball, judging by the look of them. If he knew Logan, he'd done everything in his power to keep those tools lined up so perfect and pristine from touching the ground. 

“̵̰̲̝͎͓̫͖͖̮̀̊̽̓̿̎̃̆̕͜Í̶̡̩̮͈͓́̃̑̔͊’̶̳̈͒̽̑̍͆M̶̬̳̪̂̀̉̕ ̵̪̺͎̟̂̏G̶͙̼̟̳̭̓O̵̯͖̿I̶̟̾̿̔͊̽͠N̸͖͉̦̩̊̐̃̆G̵̡̠̫̤̩͉̈͐͂ ̴̦͕̓̽̋͑̕͠T̸̩͋̕ͅÖ̶̧͍̦̖̜͙́̊̓̃͠ ̵̟̖͔̐͗̓̋͠͠R̴̘̙̽̋̈́̇͝I̴͔̘̾͂̃͐P̸̡̢̻̣̖̀̍͒̑͝ ̸̖̦̻̲̫̂Y̸̛̜̬̐O̷͖̥̾̓Ư̷̺̺̯̊̏̑̓̉R̶̩͎̾ ̵̧̱̈͊͆̑F̵̢͔͖̳̩͎̑̂̔̽̀I̴̡̡͍̞̦͒͋ͅN̵͇̎́͐̍̃͝G̸̪̰͈̀̓E̶̠͒̌͝Ř̴͖̝̩͈̉S̵̰̗̻̲̐̄ ̴͓͋O̶̟̤̝͔̒͜F̷̪͚̯̪́̈́̈̕ͅF̵̲̀̌̋ ̸̳́̆͑͒̃L̶̜̒E̶̜͍̍̃̽T̶̼̓̆͋̿͠ ̵̩̂̏͌̑̆͠M̶̰̗̻͗̅͠ͅḘ̴̡̲̼͉̉̈́̏͂͜ ̶͙̥͒͜͠ͅO̶̺̗͋̊͆U̵͉͈̖͌̆͆̌T̸̛͕̭̯͙͐͗͛̓͐ L̴͖͎̗̫̓͗͋͊͘E̵̘̍̌̋̽̓Ṱ̵̼̒̉̃͠ ̸̧͖͍̞̱̠̈M̷͕̭̜̄̕͠E̷̱̤̰̕ ̷̢̫͖̖̊̍̊̎̎̉Ǫ̵̞̙̗͓̎̋̈́͊̑͝U̵̬̒̌Ṱ̴̮͕̙̿̒̂̓ͅ _̷̩̣̄̑̈́͘N̸͎̗͍͒̐̂̏Ő̷̠̿͂̂͜W̴̡̛̹̗̭͖̬̎͒̈-̸̢̼̼͔͔͒̆̉́̓_ "

“You- stop this- this- minute!” Roman gasped as he shoved Remus into the chair and knelt down on top of him. Remus ignored him in favour of more screaming, kicking, and frantic attempts to free his arms. A brief flash of Talyn eating dead baby chicks like chicken nuggets barely caught his attention through his irritation.

“̵̪́̈͌͌̂͑-̵͎͈̎͜ ̷̨̧̨͔̭̒L̴͎͙̬͇̪͉͒̆͆̚Ḛ̸̤̀Ṯ̷͙̥̱̤̎ ̷͎̘̩̂̈́G̴͓̖̈̆̍̔͒Ȏ̶̭̩͈̍͠ ̷̩͎̝̫̺͑Ọ̷̢̩͚̌F̷͕̻̻̫̍͑͜ͅ ̷̫̤͔̞̈́̈́̈͝M̸̪̤͉̌͝E̷̛̗͔̮͚̼̒̑̋̈́̕ ̸̡̥͔̟̣̄̒́͊͝N̵̢̤̻̱̤̚͝O̷̠͇̅̈́͊̈ ̴̬̐̕Ṋ̷͙͇̄̌̂̕O̴͖̦̓̀̇̓ ̶̨̩̘͙̽͌Í̶͔̉̕ ̵̘̜͂̓W̶̝̙͙̠̓Ö̷̢̦̘͔̭̎͘̚͜͝Ṋ̶͔͉͎͒̍̉̂’̷̲̜̳̖̄͗̕Ţ̷̨̡͓̳͂ ̴̬̌̏̑͒́ͅL̵̙̣̙̺͐̔̎É̸̛̞̳̝̺͊̿T̸̫͂͝ ̸̧̹̪̜̳͊̕H̴̩̻̰͔̼͋̆ͅĮ̶̿M̸͓̀̀̏ ̶̨̭̬̥̾̈̀H̸̘̳̟̳͐̉Ȩ̵͇̀ ̸̧͙͈̈́̉̾͝ͅC̴̗̠̳̓̇̎͌̌Á̵͎̺͓̃Ņ̵̈́͐’̵̮͔̓̋͋̇Ṫ̷̨̯͎̏͋̈́̐ͅͅ ̵̤͇̫̯̬̩̃͐H̷̘͖͋̀͠͠Ă̸̯̺̣̠̈̚V̵̛̳͇͉͓̉̈́E̷̡̳͓͂ ̷̮̮͊͆Ţ̵̣̖̗̑H̴̪̙͔̙͌̅͊̔̒̓ͅE̴̞̹͈͈̞͠M̸̰̦̥̩͉̺̄-̷̫͖͓̩̠̩́̄̾̑̽”̵͖̬̅̍͛̀̆̂

At this point, Logan stood, looking irritated. “Now, really, you're being silly-” he was cut off when the image of a massive library full of books burning down, turning to worthless, unreadable rubble, truly jarred him. 

_̴̻͐̂͒“THEY'RE M̵̬͔͂̐͘I̶̘̜̙̿͑N̵̦̋̚E̵̢͉̓͗̃_ ̴̣̆͒̈I̷̡͕̩͗W̸̦͠O̵̬̲͛ͅN̴̩͚̤͒’̵̣͆̉̕T̸̛̻̎̋ ̸̗̟͗̕Ľ̴̟̠̘͂E̵̛͇̠̗͊̋T̶̙̜̅͊ ̷̩͈̈͘Y̵̬̱̒Ö̵̘́̾U̶͚̰̎̈ ̶͎̮̲̈T̷̮̠̑͛͛A̴̪͐͌K̷̘̺͐͒̒E̷̡̩̫̐͗̃ ̷̬̺̜̎T̷̥͙̠͛̏H̵̖̟̝̾Ě̴̖̩̜̔M̸̧͔̜͝ ̴͍̖͇͋̓Ỉ̷̪̭͙̑’̵̮́͝L̶̮͆́L̴̡͋̆̄ ̴̦̲̐̽E̶͎̫̥̽Ä̵̧̬͓́̃͝T̸̲̱̏̽̀ ̷̘̟̋Ó̴̞̝̇͘F̵̒ͅF̶͖͝͝͝ ̴͕̂̄Ÿ̴̰́̈͌O̵̻̯͍̽̍̏U̵̘͊̒ͅR̷͇̩͊̓ ̸͋͗ͅS̵̮͕̍̓̂K̸̙͉͗́́I̴̜̩̓̈́N̴̼̘̏̇͆ ̷̬̝͓̈́̈́̕I̷̓͜’̷̾̇ͅĹ̵̳̠͈̒̆L̸̬̓ ̷̡̝͒̽̊F̶͓͗̄ͅI̵̢̦̪͂̐Ļ̷̳̝̀̾́Ḽ̸̐͜ ̴͖̂̾ͅY̵̩͍͒Ǫ̷̥͌̋ͅU̷̖͛ͅR̶̢̀̋̌ ̵̝̠̫̌I̸̜̪͍̒̈N̸̲̞͐T̵̖̒̾E̵̹̔̕Ş̷̨̐̄̿T̵͇͑̇I̴̟̿ͅṆ̸̆E̷̛̛̘̯̓S̷̘͎̑ ̸̥͇̮͘͝ W̶̏̀̄͜Ī̶͔̜̼͌͘T̸̋͋͋ͅH̵̦͚͑̊͒ ̴͓͂͑̃M̴̫̄̊̇A̷̤̮̎̏͝G̶̻͛Ģ̴̳̲͠O̶͖̙̗̔̓T̴̈́̐͋ͅS̷̡̛̤̈́͒ ̴̰̫̪̈͆͠Í̵͖̖̥’̷̭͋͗ͅL̶̜͉͂͠L̶̨̮͌̿͝ͅ P̸̭̈̐͝L̵͙̙̬͛́̐U̵̜̖̳͑C̵̤͙̬̓̌Ķ̴̲̋ ̶̬͈̮͒O̶̫̊͊͠U̴̥̥̅̍T̸̨̟̃̈́͐ ̵͎͓͎̑̒̃Y̷̨̹͑̕O̵͔̼̅̒͊͜Ṳ̷̀̽̔Ȓ̸̗̠̾̄ ̴͈̪̑̌E̸̺͖̅̍Y̶̛̝É̵͔̻̤B̸̨̅A̴̧̤͗̏L̴̙͕̃L̷̳̞͛Ŝ̵̡̞̫̄ ̵͖͠Ö̷̱͓̅N̶͎̩̂̌͑E̵̬͈̰̒̅́ ̴̩̈́̓ P̵̪͑̌I̴͕͋͂N̸̢͈̋͝͝P̵͚̬̒͌͘ͅR̵͕̎I̴̻͙̍C̴͍̺͖̐͛͛K̸̝̆͂ ̷̮͈̓ͅÂ̷̧̕͝T̴̩͌ ̴̨͉͈̾͂A̵͖̝̺͑ ̶̭̗̩̂̀T̵̨̈́I̷̠̦̲̿͂M̶̟͒Ê̵̛̩̗͔͠ ̴̩̗͍̂̇P̸̳͌̈́Ú̴̖̹͝͝T̴̡͊̃̀ ̸̠̖̋̈́ͅM̷͇͙̉͊E̸̼͚͊ ̷̼̜̆͜T̶̫̭͝H̷̢̲͝É̶̺̀ **_̵̘̱̈́͘F̴̡̯̱̾U̶̧̚C̵̝̆̀̚K̴̻̣̖͐̎̇_ ** ̴̣̌ D̴̮͍̞̿͠Ọ̶̧̲̑Ẇ̴̛̩N̷͔͙͛̌͝ ̸̧̫͖̇̾͝Y̷̩̖͛́͆O̶̰͇͑Ű̶̙͎͘ _̵̙̮̍̕Ĉ̸̨̮̝Ǎ̴̺̯̔́Ṇ̴̈́’̷̨̭̓͂T̵͎͂͘_ ̶̨͈̅̈́̅H̶̱̞̓A̴͎̦̹͒̃V̷̩̖̿͜E̴̩͗̉̔ ̶͎̗̀̏Ţ̸̬͙̇Ĥ̴̼͉E̸͈̺̮̓͒M̵̨̱̺̂ ̸̫̦̪͋̔Y̴̥̳̠͒̇O̷̡̦͇͛Ù̵͍̳͕ ̷̰̦̯̈́̉ **C̶̪͖̠̾̒́A̵̛̺̺͙̒̋N̴͉̗͊͐͐'̶̨͕̄̅̆T̷̹͝** ̶̗͒͠Ḩ̷̦̞́͋̄A̴͖̣͂Ṿ̷̲̻̓̀͐E̵̠̠͐ ̸͍̬͌͘T̴̖̙̻̀̑H̸̥͚̒̉Ę̷̠͘̕M̶̨̡͋͒̉ͅ **_Y̷͎̟͛Ó̷̡̙Ü̸̡̹͙ ̸̡̹̞̈̿̊C̵̢̱̮̐̎̚Ä̷̡́̈́͒N̶͔̓͆̋'̸̧̡̺̈͂͘T̸̛͓͋́ ̵͉̀H̷̬̟͌̿ͅA̶͎̩͋͋̔V̸̯̿̈́E̸̠̓̈͋ ̷̪̈́T̶͍̮̖́͆͛H̶̪͓͛Ḛ̷͇̼̾̆M̴͚͗͜!̵̜̫̾͒!̷̱͚̍!̷̢̯̞̂!̴͇͚̀́̕!̴̖̑!̵̲̹̔”̶̳͙̾̕_ **

There was an abrupt shift in the thoughts, at least one that Patton noticed. They didn't feel like fantasy for a second, they felt like… a memory.

A man in black, standing over him, tall and terrifying, clutching a pair of rusty, red-stained pliers, between the jaws of which was clamped a tooth. He could taste the coppery, salty taste of blood fill his mouth as it gushed from the hole that tooth had been yanked from. And the worst part? The man released the tooth, allowing it to clink against six more, lying on the ground, still stained with blood and bits of gum, and it was then he noticed that there were six other holes, weeping blood as his eyes buried in agony. 

Patton tried to rush over, only for Remus’s flailing and frantic struggling impossible. The energy he was putting out was so thick it was basically a wall that filled the entire room, and if you weren't already in, you weren't getting in. Nonetheless, Patton tried to get closer (ignoring the thoughts of the taste of blood and metal, pain and pulling and begging and crying). “Guys! Kiddos! Stop!!” 

Nobody reacted. No change in the intrusive thoughts Remus was unwittingly sending out to keep new challengers from approaching. 

Okay, he hadn't wanted to do this, but clearly it needed to be done. Patton drew on an area of his dad energy he did not use often, and boomed in the loudest voice he possessed that was still not yelling, “ _What is going on here?!”_

Immediately, the room went still. It was as if hearing him call out in his disappointed Patton voice was enough to put the tantrum, the confusion, even the screaming to a halt. Even the thoughts Remus unwittingly projected as, I guess, some kind of self defense, had kind of frozen in midair, so Patton was left imagining the taste of tears and snot and blood in his mouth. Hammers frozen mid-collision with his hand, bone shattering and splintering and, of course, yet more tooth pulling, in increasingly graphic detail.

Remus took immediate advantage of the pause. He swung and got Roman off, and rolled out of the chair, scrambling up on top of logan's wardrobe. He pulled, yanked at the vent, eventually accepting that there was no way out up there and just sitting there with his knees underneath him as he whimpered. 

The man in the intrusive thoughts had a voice now. A taunting, teasing voice that said terrible things that bordered the line between insults and affection. “ _Ugh, why did I think you'd be strong enough to do this?”, “I bet Roman would pull out his teeth if I asked him to. Come on, just three more_ .” And possibly the worst, “ _you won't pull anymore? Well, we can't leave it like that, can we? Say Aah~”_

“What happened in here?” Patton demanded of the remaining two sides, who looked just as lost as he. “Roman, were you teasing-?”

“No! I was talking to Logan!” He huffed and glanced up at his brother. “I guess the spastic little gremlin just decided he couldn't go without chaos for another moment.”

Remus said nothing. He just kept whimpering, clinging to the bars of the vent in the hopes that they might give way. No such luck, now their Liar was here, he was mad, he had to be _so_ mad, they were going to take them _all_ away, he'd have to re-grow them himself, would he have to do it in a closet? He hoped Virgil wasn't involved...

Amidst his sniffling, Patton looked skeptical. “What were you talking about?”

“Just, how weird and annoying a certain _dookie problem_ has been lately, and how this would've been so much EASIER if he'd gone to Logan first. Ugh, I tell you, padre-”

“If Roman had brought the issue to my attention sooner, I could have-”

Patton was two steps back from his dad voice again, when the one from above began demanding, “stop, just stop, stop, stop, _stop!!!_ ” The last came in nearly a sob. 

They paused again. Roman was so focused on his tirade, on the indignant anger he felt on his brother regressing so ridiculously and so childishly, he hadn’t even looked at the harbinger of intrusive thoughts since he shoved him into a wall, 

Patton sighed deeply. “Rome…” he moved a little closer and allowed his voice to drop lower as he guided Logan into their tiny huddle. “I think he might be scared of the dentist, honey.”

They both looked blank. 

“That seems highly unlikely,” Logan said as he picked up a box of rubber gloves that had ended up all the way across the room. “Isn’t it more likely that Remus is simply, oh what’s the word again, when you make something unnecessarily taxing and grueling for the purpose of causing mayhem-?”

“Being a little shit?” Roman filled in. 

“Yes, that.”

“Guys. Look at him,” Patton pointed to the duke, and the Logical Side followed his gesture, only to jolt with realization when he did. 

The duke was now hugging his knees, rocking slightly with his face hidden as he whimpered, occasionally muttering the word “no” almost to himself as he shook like a leaf caught in a gale. 

Logan stood there, as the realization sunk in and slowly he began to loathe the use of idioms more than ever before. Yes, indeed, everything present was indicative of a characteristic fear response, just… not for Remus. When Remus was afraid, he got angry and defensive. Of course, such responses were very tiring, and considering he’d been in such a response all week… 

“Okay, I see your point,” he admitted, as Roman covered his mouth with his hands. He had done this. He'd scared his little brother and made everything terrible. 

“What do we do, dad?” The prince asked, horror in his voice as the need to correct course overtook him. Patton squeezed his shoulder, then turned to the duke and slowly approached the wardrobe. 

“Remus?” Patton said gently.

The whimpering abruptly stopped. 

“Can you talk to me for a second, kiddo?”

He shook his head, shifting so his face was buried in his knees. He mumbled something about “take” and “want.”

“Baby, I don't understand what's wrong. Just tell me what's got you all in a tizzy.”

The same thing, mumbled again, quieter this time. 

“Can you just say that one more-?”

“I don't want _him_ -” he jerked his head toward Logan, who looked increasingly confused, “-to take them away.”

Patton frowned. “Take what away? Your teeth?”

Remus nearly began sobbing, but nodded. 

Okay, that made sense. Remus never got this upset when Patton threatened to take _anything_ away, not privileges or possessions, and, well… what else could he have been talking about? (See, Logan? He listened.)

“And the stuff you're sending out now is-?”

“To keep them away. So they can't,” he stopped abruptly, whimpering into his lap. Finally he said, in a voice much quieter than anyone had heard from the duke, “pull out my _teeth._ ”

“You truly believe I planned to extract your teeth?” Logan repeated shakily, now terrified the voice chiding them in the intrusive thoughts for being weak and stupid and stuff was _his._ It sounded intelligent and cunning enough, but… no. It couldn't be. Could it?

A quick nod. 

“Why?”

“Heard you say it. Said you were gonna start pulling teeth.” 

Roman turned pale. “No,” he said abruptly, tone significantly calmer than it had been a moment ago. “Remus, I said that, I meant it's hard to make you do things. It's _like_ pulling teeth. Logan isn't going to-”

“Yes he is!” A spark of his original rage and indignation returned to the surface, and there was a flash of Remus strangling his brother to death. “I'm not stupid I know how this works will you please stop fucking punishing me like this?!?!” He slammed his fist on the wood of the wardrobe beside him. 

“No, sweetheart, no, that's not what we're doing,” Patton insisted as Virgil came into the room.

He looked around at Logan, repairing the carnage, then up at Remus, projecting his weird thoughts from the top of Logan’s wardrobe. Then at Patton and Roman, who looked completely at a loss for what to do.

“Hey bud?” He waited for Remus to look at him before holding up the stuffed octopus. “Mind if I get a little closer?”

The duke’s expression became one of longing and desperation for a moment as he stared at the doll that DEFINITELY wasn't his, but then he steeled his resolve and buried himself back in his knees. “No. You work for them now. You'll make the punishment worse.”

A flash of another memory. Being trapped in a closet as dark tendrils curled up and wrapped around your throat, and a much younger Virgil saying, “I’m sorry, dookie. I have to, don’t be mad.”

Oh. He remembered that. Okay, _Ouch_. “Dude, we're not gonna punish you for being scared.”

“No, the _first_ fucking one!” He snarled, frustration boiling to a crescendo. “The one where I can't fucking _eat_ anything or sleep or do fucking _anything_ because everything _hurts_!!”

Virgil blinked. “... wait, you think your toothache is a punishment?”

“Oh, don't pretend, Noia! We both know how the guys in charge get when one of us steps out of line! You get panic attacks, I get hurt, that's just how it works! We-”

“Remus. These guys can't do that.”

He finally froze, his tantrum falling off his face. “... what?”

“Patton, Roman, Logan, they can't manifest pain to punish you. And they sure don't make me kick up the panic attacks to make things worse.” He shuddered at the thought of Remus ripping out a mouse’s intestines that forced its way into his head. “In fact, I don't think there's much more I could do in that regard.”

“But…” Remus looked puzzled, almost quizzical. “But… no… Snake said… Snake used to…”

They let the silence settle in. Logan cleared his throat. “It may be an appropriate time to remind you that Deceit’s primary function is to communicate falsehoods as if they were information.”

Roman gave him a look. 

“... not now?”

“Maybe later.”

“Baby, did Deceit used to hurt you?” Patton asked quietly, more seriously than he'd ever asked a question. 

Remus didn’t answer for a minute, it hurt and he was confused and everything was weird. “He had to.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t do what he wanted.” He said it as if that was a good enough reason. 

“Did he…” Roman was pale as he asked, but he had to. “Did he pull out your teeth?”

His brother shrugged. “He tried to make me do it. I wouldn't do it. I was lazy. And… and when I was bad…”

They all heard it this time; Deceit’s voice, cold and irritated and about 110% done with Remus. Each and every one of them felt him pressing his first and second finger into their throats as his thumb caressed their faces. 

_“Now, Madness, you stop that this instant. If you can't behave and obey, I'll get the pliers and you're going to pull out_ all _your teeth. And_ nobody _wants that.”_

It was a memory Remus had worked to ignore, had almost forgotten. He couldn't even remember the incident that pissed Snake off in the first place, much less why it warranted having to remove six of his teeth, before deceit ordered him into his room to regenerate them the old-fashioned way, alone in his bedroom, sobbing as the taste of metal oozed from his mouth. 

A hand touched Remus’s, fingers caressing it with the care of a butterfly wing. He jerked abruptly away, looking down to see Patton, hand retracted and looking devastated. With a deep breath, he drew up his passive, calming expression and offered his hand. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, slowly and evenly, like he was talking to Virgil in the middle of a panic attack, “it's okay. Everything's okay. He can't hurt you here, and Logan’s not gonna do anything to hurt your teeth, I promise.”

“Indeed,” agreed Logan, who had finally reorganized the approximation of an office. “You know I'm not good at the emotional-needs things, but I can tell you that I'm going to do everything to save the tooth in question as painlessly as possible. You are safe.”

“Completely safe,” Roman put in emphatically. “I'm sorry I scared you, but if Logan does a single thing to you that hurts on purpose like that, I promise you he'll be sorrier.”

“You've made me the enemy, now?”

“What? It's true. You do anything at all to hurt my baby brother, I'll give you a wedgie so bad it'll send you back in time. You're gonna have to wedgie my grandfather before he meets my grandmother if you wanna stop it.”

Logan blinked, then decided he'd rather not unpack all that. There was way too much wrong with it and they just didn't have time. “A second ago we were consoling Remus.”

Before anyone could apologetically continue, Remus giggled. A sound that usually meant terrible things were afoot, but now, all it could mean was that the duke was a bit closer to edging down off of his perch. 

“You're all so weird,” he said more to himself than them. 

The Sides shared a collective glance. Virgil had had the same sentiment when he'd first arrived, had thought it so odd that being ‘grounded’ involved going to his bedroom and waiting for dismissal, instead of something he had refused to talk about. He'd also had no idea what “tuck in” meant, and thought it was the weirdest thing in the world when Patton led him to bed, and showed him what it was (but damn him if he was going to ask for it to stop). 

It was a slap in the face at the time, and this was only further reminder of what Deceit truly was. He was the worst parts of all of them, everything terrifying they all could have become. 

They were better. They would prove it. 

“Indeed. But I assure you, weirdness does not equate to malice. It is admirable of you to apply your past experiences to access potentially dangerous situations, but _please_ trust us.” Now didn't feel like the time to reiterate his point about the infection spreading, but losing his teeth was a very real possibility. 

Remus steeled himself, feeling a bit like they were asking him to come down to lay his head on the block of his own accord. He shook harder than Katherine Howard as he started his summit down the wardrobe. 

“Ah, here,” Roman was immediately there, hands that had held him so tightly mere moments ago now guiding him to the flood with strong, gentle touches, more suggestions of contact than anything else. 

Remus muttered a thanks; his mouth was now pulsating, he wasn't sure how intelligible it was. But Roman seemed to get the jist, smiling. 

“You're very welcome, baby brother.” He paused, then asked, “do you want me to leave?”

It would've been fair, especially after all that happened. However, it would've been like sending the Duke of Weasel-Face into the dragon’s lair to face the beast alone, to leave this room and abandon Remus to Logan’s dental wrath. But thankfully, Remus frantically shook his head, frantically squeezing the hand he was still holding from his descent. “No, Roman, stay. Please?”

It was like a spell had, for a moment, been lifted, allowing Roman to see through the disguise of the monster that plagued Thomas’s late-night musings and into the desperate, frightened face of the unloved brother who would love Roman to approve of him more than anything. Roman smiled. “Of course. For as long as you want me.”

Gently this time, the two brothers re-approached the chair, only for Patton to stop them. 

“Hold on a sec, kiddos. Remus, you know you look snazzy, but…” he eyed the Duke’s outfit up and down, and Remus was suddenly very aware of how itchy it was (he hadn't changed clothes in days). “I'd like to get you into something more comfy. Can I?”

Remus shrugged. Had he been less tired, he might have said something about owning a suit that was very comfortable. 

With a snap, Patton had taken his clothes away. His boots, the outfit he'd so carefully crafted to look like Roman’s, sequins and all, were gone. Presumably, right back to his room. Without even a split second of nudity to remind him of who was in charge, Patton snapped him into a set of soft, black pyjamas decorated with green plaid and silver accents. 

“There. Much better. Wanted to give them to you some less bad time, but…” Patton shrugged. “Want me to stay?”

“Patton, I don't think that's a good idea,” Logan interjected before Remus could respond. “You don't have the strongest stomach in the world, and frankly, you have a frankly patchy history with potentially icky procedures-”

“I want him here,” Remus spoke up. Then immediately, “if he has time.”

_“Tidy yourself up, Madness, I need to convince Thomas he likes girls again, and when I get back there had better not be one spec of blood on my carpet.”_

“Of course, kiddo. I'll stay as long as you need.”

Logan sighed. “Well, if you're going to stay, I can't say you're properly dressed either. Here.” He gave a final snap, and Thomas’s morality was dressed in scrubs similar to Logan’s, except they were beige with cats and dogs all over them. He was delighted. Unless the Duke was much mistaken, Logan nearly smiled. 

“Alright. With that settled, I think it's time we finally get to the crux of this issue, please?”

As Remus got back into the chair, he felt his heart begin pounding his ribcage. Oh, god, they were lying, weren't they? That would be just his luck _just what you deserve_. “Now, Remus? If you start losing control of yourself, or you need to say something for any reason, just squeeze my arm or cry out, and I'll stop.”

Without thinking about it, Remus glanced at Virgil, who had placed his stuffed octopus by his free hand. 

“He's right,” agreed Virgil, with a shrug. “And I should know.”

“Our Dark Knight speaks from experience,” Roman piped up, voice equally Roman-y but just a bit softer. 

“Oh, I see how it is. You get eight cavities _one_ time and suddenly _that's_ your legacy.”

Remus snorted. “Seriously?”

“Can we please focus on one dental disaster at a time, please? Remus, open wide for me.”

He did, not really thinking about it until some time later. Logan was noticeably gentler in his exploration, though it still hurt exponentially, but supposedly he was trying to make that stop. What if he was lying? Sometimes Dee Dee would say things wouldn't hurt just to laugh at him when they did. Oh Madness you silly boy, have you forgotten what I do? Patton was a mirror of the snake, he'd always said to never listen to anything morality said, _he’s as big a liar as I am,_ so it followed that he was lying about this, too, right?

The feeling of a piece of cotton rubbing against his gums. No, not cotton, cardboard. Logan gently tapped his chin, encouraging him to bite down on… whatever it was. This, of course, hurt too, causing his grip to tighten on RoRo’s fingers. RoRo squeezed back, without missing a beat. This helped considerably. Being around him always eased his thoughts, made it easier to focus on reality and not his own depraved fantasy. Still, he whined, as if wordlessly begging for the cardboard atrocity to be pulled from his jaw. 

“Shhhh, shh shh shh, it's okay, baby,” Patton soothed. “Logan’s just taking some pictures, just a second, it'll be over soon…”

Pictures? Why? _So he can laugh at you later, idiot. You ruined your teeth and now he's going to show this to Roman and Patton and Virgil every time one of them steps out of line so they know-_

“There we are. Done.” Logan’s voice, calm and clinical and somehow soothing, cut through his reverie like a knife. Remus reared up to spit the cardboard thing out onto the floor beside him, leading to the side that did not sign up for this shit to move one of his metal trays into its path of destruction at the last second. “That is _still_ disgusting.”

“Oh, deal with it, Microsoft Nerd.”

“Roman used that one.”

“We've re-watched The Office 19 times. Everyone here re-uses material.”

“Fair point.” He pulled up a black piece of paper with the same flourish he'd pull up a chart upon which to exposit things to Thomas. “Patton, would you come here?”

The inner dad stood, leaving Roman sitting there, clutching his brother’s hand. It was odd, he usually hated the whole “being touched” thing, unless he was doing the touching first, it usually meant someone was just trying to show you who was boss, and the only thing you could do in response was throw them off where you could. 

Why was it, then, that Patton’s first instinct when you were in a difficult spot (no not “having a tantrum” he was the Duke for crying out loud, he didn't _throw_ tantrums) was to hug you close and shush you until you stopped? It couldn't mean anything else, he was reminding Remus _he_ was in charge, that's what that expression means, the one he was using to stare at the pictures Logan just took, with big eyes and a furrowed brow, nodding hesitantly as Logan told him stuff he couldn't hear. 

“Remus,” Patton said quietly, after a minute of quiet, and Logan pointing things out on the skeleton, “how brave are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Uh...” Roman was brave. He was the bravest person any of them had ever known. Roman would hear that question and scoff and reply, “ _how brave do you need me to feel?”_ Or something equally cool. “Why?” Patton never wanted him to be brave. Patton needed them to be brave. He didn't tell Remus not to get scared, Remus _did_ the scaring-

“I'm going to need to perform a root canal on you,” Logan informed him, calm as you please. “As well as filling the remaining cavities. The procedure itself is a bit frightening but I promise you, there will be little to no discomfort involved.”

It was like he'd suddenly dropped into an ice cold lake, only the layer of ice reformed over him, now he couldn't get out. He stared, silent and blinking, so Logan went on. “The pulp inside one of your molars has become necrotic, most likely due to the accident with Roman during that ridiculous game you two insist on playing-”

“Frying Pan Wars!” Roman protested, earnest and offended. 

“Yes. Frying Pan Wars. If left alone, it will-”

“We don't need details, Logan,” Patton said sternly. “Just… look, see this stuff here, inside your tooth?” Patton pointed it out, ever the Watson to his Sherlock. “He’s gotta get that out. Logan will be quick, I promise it’ll make the hurting stop.”

“That is correct. So, I need to give you some anaesthetic, then open up the tooth and file away the dead stuff so new pulp can come in and I can repair any other damage caused. Okay?”

“Oh. Fine,” he said, though he wasn't listening. Logan was describing what he wanted to do to him (he's going to suck out your tooth guts, _much_ more fun than pulling) as Patton fiddled with the dials on the chair. He was lying down, unsure of how he'd gotten this way, feeling vulnerable and increasingly jittery as Logan pulled a paper surgical mask over his face.

“I need you to open wide again, Remus. It's time for the anaesthetic, I promise it will help the pain.”

“It's only gonna take a second, kiddo.”

He nodded, suddenly aware of every pressure applied to his body, from the leather of the chair pressing into his back to the sensation of Romaine clutching his hand. 

“Okay. We can do this, right? We can absolutely do this.” He sounded like he was reassuring himself more than anything. “Alright. Ready?”

He nodded, but no, no, no, he wasn't, not at all, oh god, this was how he died. Still, he opened again, and felt something like the sensation of a q-tip on his gums, brushing against his teeth near the agony. Cotton on his teeth, it hurt, but still, he was holding that one. The spot it touched went tingly and fuzzy, and Remus hoped against hope for a moment that that was the anaesthetic, that it was all done and wouldn't hurt anymore. 

Then he watched as Logan prepared a syringe with a hypodermic needle, filling it with something and immediately turning it downward toward Remus. His thumb remained firmly in his mouth, near the tingly spot beside the hurting. 

“This is just lidocaine, Remus, I've used it at least twice. It should only pinch, and besides, given you're so anxious, it should help you feel calmer.”

“A shot is supposed to help him feel calmer?”

“Virgil.”

“Joking. Sorry.”

It was like there was no more oxygen. What if there wasn’t? Had they taken it away? Or taken it just for him, hoping he would pass out? No, that couldn't be it, his breath was there, it was just coming in short, quick gasps that did nothing to oxygenate anything or calm the feeling that there was a large weight pressing on his chest and squeezing down. Knowing it wouldn't stop him, Remus reached up and grabbed Logan’s resting arm, squeezing with all his might. They were lying, there was no signal, Logan would just keep going and ignore his pleas to stop-

Much to his surprise, and greatest relief, Logan set the needle aside and took his thumb out. “Yes?” He asked patiently, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Virgil?” Remus croaked when he found words. He didn’t know why he wanted Virgil, he had probably already left, not wanting to watch as Remus screamed and struggled against Logan’s hands stuffed into his mouth. 

“What's up, Duke?” His voice came from the other side of the room, from the corner he'd stood in. Comfortably far, but not out of reach. Like the octopus. 

“I can't-” he took in a rasping gasp of air. “- I can't breathe, is this a punishment?”

His octopus was nudged into his hands. “Nah, dude, you're just having a panic attack. You're fine.”

He squirmed, unable to meet Logan’s face, terrified it might morph into a horrific smile surrounded by scales. “No,” he whimpered, squirming and turning his head, as if doing so would stop the giant syringe from sticking his gums. “No, no, I don't want it-”

“You've gotta get it.” Virgil paused and continued, sounding truly apologetic. “It hurts too bad without it, buddy, I'm sorry.”

He whimpered, aware Virgil was right but oh my _god_ , this was going to be _bad._ He'd been good at pushing needles through his own skin, the lesson had been easy enough, but then why was he panicking, there was no _reason_ for him to be panicking. “No it doesn't, you can just do it-”

“Falsehood.”

“Remus, buddy?” Virgil spoke up calmly. “Do me a favour. Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Close your eyes. Let Logan back in. It's not so bad if you don't see it.”

With a dash of confusion swirling in the boiling broth of dread, Remus did as he was told, shutting himself away behind the dark of his eyelids. 

“Take a breath in through your nose for four seconds.”

He drew in, not sure what was happening, but at least the needle was gone for now. 

“Now hold it for eight seconds, then blow out through your nose for seven seconds.” He waited for Remus to follow the instructions set out for him before speaking again. “That's it, buddy, just keep it up.”

“Remus, I’m going to administer the anaesthetic. Continue to breathe as I do. In for four, hold for eight, out for seven, understood? I assure you any pain will be minimal and temporary.”

He swallowed, despite the dry feeling in his mouth. “Okay.” He opened with his next breath, and unless he was much mistaken, Roman’s free hand had joined his other in holding his brother’s hand. 

Another feeling of cotton, brushing against teeth and onto gums. Seriously, an odd sensation, not unlike nails on a chalkboard or chewing deodorant. He made a mental note to use this next time Thomas couldn't sleep. Then he felt an odd kind of pressing into the numbness. It didn't feel like a shot, but that was what it had to be, because after a brief second of burning, then chill (both sensations elicited sharp, surprised cries from the Duke), that entire section of his face went pleasantly numb. 

“There. That should, at least, give us enough time until I can remove the necrosis.”

“It says you're supposed to-” Remus abruptly realized Patton was reading off of his phone. Christ, seriously?!

“To inject the entirety of the jaw, yes, I know. Remus, if anything still hurts, let us know, I'll apply more medicine as we go.”

There were a few more swabs and pokes, but before long, his entire jaw was basically down for the count. This wasn't so bad. He didn't even notice as the needle was set aside and Logan began maneuvering once again, or as the devil tooth was poked and prodded, more focused on the feeling of Roman’s hands encompassing his. He was warm. He always ran like a furnace. Remus was cold, maybe that was what the shaking was about. 

“I'm about to open the tooth. Try to relax, and keep still. You shouldn't feel a thing.”

“Uhh.”

“I'm assuming that was you understanding. Won't be long.”

The strangest feeling followed this declaration. It didn't exactly hurt, as Logan had promised, but rather, it was like his entire jaw began rapidly being vibrated at one fixed point. It was a buzzing, screeching roar that wouldn't be ignored, _couldn't_ be ignored. He grabbed Logan’s arm again, and again, the vibrating stopped almost immediately but the thumb didn't move. 

_(Probably clamping down on a blood vessel or something, and if he moves it it'll be all oozing and squirting blood and pus and stuff.)_

“Hurts?” Logan asked, patient and calm, as if he were consoling a frightened child.

“Uh-uh.” It truly didn't. The feeling was simply... impossible.

“Hm. Must be a fear response. Patton, do you mind? I need to focus.” He winced as something abruptly sprayed into his mouth, then he caught a taste of it. Just water. Rusty, pus-tasting water. 

Patton smiled down at Remus, kissing him on the hair and feeling only a little hurt when he flinched. Shoving aside thoughts of what he would've liked to do to deceit if given the opportunity, he picked up a mask from the other side of the death chair and held it up so it was visible. 

“Remus, kiddo, if you want, I can put this on your face and it'll make you feel calmer. But you might fall asleep if I do. Is that okay?”

_No. Nonononono if you fall asleep you’re going to wake up without any teeth, or you won’t wake up at all, are you seriously about to let this motherfucker drug you?!?!_

Yes. He was. 

After a quick nod, the smell of nitrous filled his lungs, distracting only slightly from the incessant vibrating in every bone in his mouth. Vibrating, poking, scraping, all of it slowly became less and less important as Patton gave him what he determined to be the appropriate dose of gas. 

Roman was speaking to him. He couldn't focus on the words, but they were more feeling than words anyway. If he had been tuned in, he would've heard that they were little more than sweet nothings and affirmations that Remus was doing very well (“You’re being so brave Dookie, really you're doing great, just a bit longer, hold still for Logan and it'll all be over soon, I promise...”) as the prince of your dreams rubbed soothing circles into the back of his brother’s hand.

He focused less and less on the sensations in his body as the minutes ticked by, and the buzzing and rattling continued, and even as the words became further and further away, their meaning was unmistakable. 

Deceit, for all he had done, would not do a thing more. Not as long as the five of them were together. Not as long as Roman was his brother. It didn't hurt, he wouldn't allow it to. Remus was safe. 


	5. Novo-Cain and Un-Abel to Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Roman have a heart to heart after a long, arduous root canal, even though Remus is too tired, drugged up and numb to speak properly. They do their best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! In addition to finally getting this chapter done, I’ve also created a series of dental headcanons for the other four sides that you can read here! 
> 
> https://lizluvscupcakes.tumblr.com/post/611765654831398912/sanders-sides-dental-headcanons
> 
> I hope you like them, and this!

The Duke reoccupied his body slowly, and as he did, was aware that it felt like only a few seconds had passed. But that couldn't be the case, because that insufferable buzzing had finally stopped. In fact, it was incredibly quiet, almost eerily quiet as voices whispered over him. His eyelids felt like cement ( _ooh what if your eyelids really were made of cement wouldn't that be wild?_ ) and moving was as impossible as killing Thomas. 

“... gonna be pretty out of it for a while,” somebody was saying quietly. “He’ll probably be calmer waking up in his room than in here.”

“Roger that, dad, I'm on it.”

He was being lifted. Someone warm and strong and smelling of cinnamon and cologne was picking him up as voices spoke in hushed, hurried tones around him. 

Remus groaned and struggled against whoever held him. They shushed him, murmuring soothing things that immediately calmed him. Arms shifted his legs into an angle, propping the rest of him against a mass of well-toned muscle. Roman. Of course, he had perfected the princess hold. Well, not really a princess hold, you wouldn't make sure to prop up a princess’s head and neck this way. Roman had him more in the way someone might hold a baby.

_Hahaha he thinks you're a baby_

“Oh, is he awake?” Logan’s voice was coming away from the source of the warm, muscley, nice-smelling thing that held him. It sounded far away, yet it was incredibly loud. “Remus? Can you wake up for a moment?”

He grunted, tried to say, _“I've been awake, Hippocratic Oaf,”_ or something to that effect, but it was like his jaw was made of lead and his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He settled for grunting and prying his eyes open. A Herculean task, but he managed it.

Logan’s room was back to normal- rug back in place, furniture and personal effects back in their rightful spots on his shelves, bed back and made in typical obsessive fashion- and yet, Logan himself was still dressed in his scrubs. 

“Remus, I have completed the procedure. I replaced the crown and filled the other cavities. Any soreness you experience should recede within a few days.” They were _incredibly_ lucky that the Duke and the Prince were identical to the last indent in this regard. Logan wasn't sure how well Remus would have handled being told he'd need to return to have a permanent fit made if they couldn't provide one. 

“You did _so_ good, sweetie,” Patton gushed, still dressed in the gift Logan gave him. He was positively beaming, with a look of parental pride he reserved for Roman, Logan, Thomas or Virgil. Not him. Never him. 

Without thinking about it, the Duke returned the smile with a tired one of his own and attempted, again, to speak, to remind Patton that Logan had done all the work, all he'd done was lie there and fall asleep, but found that his mouth still wouldn't do what he wanted it to do. In fact, he realized with increasing terror, he couldn't even feel it anymore. It was still numb and tingly and he couldn't even tell if he still had his teeth.

_You don't idiot they're gone they're all gone he pulled them all out now they're waiting to see when you notice-_

“You'll find you have difficulty vocalizing.” For as clinical as it sounded, there was something soothing about Logan’s tone, that made you completely certain he was right. “You should still be under the effects of the medicine I used, but I assure you it will wear off in time.” 

“And that time is about-” Virgil made a show of checking a nonexistent watch. “Way too fuckin’ soon.”

“Under normal circumstances, I'd tell you to ‘shut up,’ as it were, but doing so brings us dangerously close to a pun, so instead, I will remind you that _you_ have been under anaesthetic effects for over a week, Virgil, and that I still don't think you wouldn't allow your teeth to rot out if your skull if I didn't-”

“Ahem??” Thomas’s anxiety nodded toward Remus, who was now dizzy, confused, and stuck in the midst of Banting without being able to express his thoughts. _What was that part about teeth rotting out, hmmm??_

Logan took a breath. “Of course. I'm sorry, both of you. You have both been poorly trained in habits regarding certain aspects of health, which is not your fault.”

Remus grunted and rolled over, nuzzling into Roman’s shirt in search of warmth and escape from the buzz of noise that was his… brother? Yes, brother’s tirade about teeth. 

“Why don't we let you lie down in your room for a bit, baby? You'll feel better once the medicine wears off.” _Falsehood,_ Remus was going to experience significant soreness and tenderness following the end of the numbing, but Logan didn't dare say so. Not now. He could fix that later. 

Remus nodded sleepily. His bed sounded fantastic right about now. Safe. Warm. Familiar. And the only place in the world he'd wanna find out for sure if he had teeth or not, when this damn medicine wore off. 

Roman smiled down at his little brother, curled in on himself and drugged into relaxing as he was held, and ran his fingers through silver streaked hair. Logan had suggested that it may not have been a stylistic thing, that it might've been psychological once. They'd have to get that Picani guy back in here, if Deceit was really as bad as Remus had described, he needed some tissues with which to work out some SERIOUS issues. 

Remus just lay there, limp, enjoying the smell of his brother's cologne as he was cradled and caressed. He didn’t watch as he was carried off, just allowed contact he never would’ve otherwise permitted as someone (probably Virgin) put the octopus in the crook of his arm. He hugged it a bit more feverently than he meant to. 

The father figure figment snapped his fingers, and Remus immediately noticed his sheets were softer, cleaner and smelling faintly of soap. Patton knew Virgil couldn’t stand strong scents, he must have assumed the same dislike was present in Remus. Roman was so gentle in setting him down too, as if trying not to wake him. “This okay, Remus?” He asked quietly, pulling the comforter up over him.

Remus nodded, hugging his octo-doll to his chest, and thinking about how weird this was. He didn't recall the exact details of what happened before Patton appeared to calm him down, but he remembered sending out thought after thought after thought, trying anything he could think of to make them cringe enough to make them let him go, stuff that Snakey never would've tolerated. He would have been silenced, locked in the tiny, enclosed dark and religious-imagery laden space, (full of crosses that burned when he touched them and made him feel nauseous when he was near them) and missing his teeth faster than you can fill someone's lungs with molten tar. 

When you were bad, when you inconvenienced anyone but Thomas, you got put away where you couldn't bug anyone with your nonsense. When Dee Dee had no need of you, and you were irritating him, he reminded you not to do that. That was just how things worked. 

It would seem that things worked differently here. In fact, now that he thought about it, near the beginning of his time in the Mindscape, Virgil had screamed at Logan. Complete meltdown that devolved into screaming and fighting. They'd screamed things like _this is why we don't fucking listen to you you fucking control freak!_ and _what would you know, you're just a disorder!_ And he'd been so excited when Patton threw on his Dad Voice that shook you to the bone without being even close to a shout. He'd been positively giddy, ready to grab a stick of deodorant to watch the two of them writhing and squirming to escape the dirt as Patton said for the whole house to hear, _THAT’S IT YOU’RE BOTH GROUNDED!!!_

He'd been so. Disappointed. All that happened was that each side involved in the fight was sentenced to three days in his room before having to apologize to each other. And even today, during his… outburst (he hesitated to call it a tantrum, though anyone would tell you that was what it was) he had sent out thoughts about everything from jumping off a skyscraper to disemboweling a dog, a display that would've surely seen him locked in the closet for a week had he thrust it upon _Him_ . Surely Patton, the paragon of purity and the monarch of morality, would have hated it even more than _He_ would have, right?

But… no. Patton had stayed cool. He'd calmly convinced the others Remus wasn't faking his fear, and in his calm and soothing voice, got him back into the chair. And he was _still_ calm, planting a kiss on Remus’s hair and murmuring his love as he began to back away. But, no, didn't he realize now was the perfect time to get him back? What could he possibly have been waiting for?

As Roman turned to follow him out of the room, Remus realized he didn't want to be alone. He grunted and whimpered, reaching for him. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though Deceit could show up in his room whenever he wanted with his terrible pliers, but… 

Roman furrowed his brow, confused. “Something wrong, Remus?”

His mouth still failing him, he reached for his phone, which was miraculously charging on the table beside him. Roman’s phone buzzed, and a pair of incredibly simple words bored into his heart in much the same way that Logan’s drill had into remus’s teeth, moments ago;

“Don't leave?”

He looked back up at his brother, who was staring at Roman with an expression filled with pure pleading. 

The prince’s face softened, and he smiled a bit. “Of course.” With a flourish, he changed into a set of red and gold flannel pyjamas. “Scootch over.”

This was hardly necessary, seeing as both aspects of the imagination could effortlessly extend the bed for exactly the purpose of not having to touch each other or fall out of bed. However, this time, Remus did as he was told and allowed himself to be snuggled like a trash teddy bear. His brother’s embrace was warm, strong and safe. Roman was strong, Remus was spindly. He could've snapped Remus like a pencil if he wanted to. _~~He should~~. _

“Did he really pull your teeth out when you misbehaved?” Roman must have been talking to himself, because there was just no way he could have answered. And even if he did, Roman already knew… right?

His silence must have been enough to answer. “I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would have been down to rescue you myself.” Offering an apology like this felt a bit like he was trying to apply band-aids to severed fingers, but it was all he could think to say. 

Another text audibly vibrated his phone. “But I'm Madness. Snakey says Madness is supposed to hurt.”

“You're taking _Deceit’s_ word on this?”

Remus wasn't sure why he flinched hearing his name said out loud, he just did. His phone dinged again. Roman looked, and nearly scoffed at the text. “It was to teach me to tell stories for Thomas”

“No, it was for him to establish control. To make you do what he wants.” Suddenly, Remus was very aware of how strong Roman was, and as he was embraced, he felt as though nothing in the world could ever touch him as long as Roman kept his grip. “It was cruel. And it was wrong. He shouldn't have done that to you.” On impulse, he kissed Remus on the back of his head. “He's the monster here Remus. Not you.”

A long pause, followed by a ding that scared Roman out of his skin. “How else was he supposed to deal with me? You know what I'm like. He needed me to shut up.”

Yikes. They _definitely_ needed that Picani guy in here. But for now, he would have the assurances of his big brother that what had happened to him was not normal. He would scream it from the rooftops again and again. Because it wasn't normal. Nothing about this was normal. 

Ding. “I just wanted to tell stories. He said stories are better when you get hurt in them. He said I had to be brave enough to get hurt.” Ding. “I wanted to be braver. I wanted Thomas to use me. Like he uses you.”

Roman searched for a smile, and was grateful Remus couldn't see him. “First of all, I'm not that brave, Remus. If anything he did to you happened to me, I would have shut down immediately. I would've been in my room, crying for a week, you… you are immensely brave. Never let anyone tell you differently.”

He entwined another arm around his brother’s middle, pulling him in for a hug. He didn't hug him nearly enough. That needed to change. 

“Second of all, there are plenty of ways to get you out of your little episodes. Remember? We talked all about it for over a minute. Well, _you guys_ talked about it, I just laid on the floor.”

Remus snorted. Yes, he remembered. He was a screaming child on a plane. That was all. There was nothing noteworthy about him. Somehow that was worse than being a monster. 

“And _third_ of all, if you want to tell stories, that's not how you do it. Thomas reads stories for the comfort _after_ the hurt. He skips right past ‘angst with no happy ending’. Torture porn isn't his style. You know that.” He sighed, and sounded repentant. Almost remorseful. “If you want Thomas to like your stories, we are going to have to work together a lot more. I'm sorry I haven't been offering,” he added as he tucked some stray hair behind the dukes ear. “I will now. Far more often. We're going to tell stories together, and it's going to be great.”

Remus rolled over, and chanced a look up into his brother’s face. Searching for the punchline, for the part where Roman pulled the rug of assurance and affection out from underneath him, and laughed as he fell, tears stinging on the way out as his ass hit the floor and reality crashed back into him.

Instead, he saw only concern. 

“Ree Ree, you're still all swollen up. Here-”

He immediately began texting, and within moments, Patton was back, holding a bag of ice, squealing as he caught a glimpse of the royal cuddle puddle. “Ohhh my god, you guys are _precious,_ ” he gushed, and sat on the edge of the bed. The duke thought he could hear a camera go off. The bag of ice was gently pressed against Remus’s tender cheek, and he immediately melted into the touch, sighing quietly. 

“Daaad,” Roman complained, though his complaint lacked any conviction. 

Patton giggled and turned to Remus, gently icing his swollen cheek. “Is this okay, kiddo?” The Duke nodded tiredly. Even numb and feeling funny, he could feel the heat practically ebb out of that spot as the cool pack hit his tender, sore flesh. 

He had to speak. He wrestled his jaw into cooperating, aware that it didn't work but only needing it to permit him two words, however unintelligible they would be. Patton would know. “Hank oo,” Remus murmured in a quiet voice, young beyond his years. 

“Oh, baby, you're welcome.” Patton pressed a kiss to the dukes face again, and was delighted to see that this time, there was no wince. Not to say there would never be one, but for a moment, Remus wasn't frightened, he wasn't angry or fighting or demanding not to be ignored. Remus trusted him. “Want me to sit for a bit?”

He nodded and was shocked to find that he did; he really didn’t want Patton to leave, with his gentle hands and sweet words and bag of ice. He wanted Patton to sit for a bit and just _be_ there. He'd never had so many people just, just _there_ for the sake of being there. It was… wonderful.

The Sides were wonderful. Being hugged by Roman was wonderful. Being reassured by Patton was wonderful, and… and Remus didn't deserve to feel wonderful.

“Ohh, baby brother, don't cry, what's wrong?” Roman cooed, gently thumbing the tears away. His touch was so gentle it might as well have been a breeze that stole away the evidence he'd been crying. 

He shook his head, unable to answer. Even if he could move his mouth again, there was no way to articulate how overwhelming and nice everything was. It was so… exquisite. And he didn't deserve an ounce of it. He was a monster who didn't deserve so much affection and kindness and gentleness and… it was absurd. But getting into that meant he was further away from his nap. Trembling, he sent another text. 

“I'm sorry. I guess I just feel funny. Why is this happening?”

Roman relayed this information to their Dad Guy, who soothed, “don't worry, it's just from the medicine. It'll be all better in a bit, I promise.” Remus looked up to see his face, gentle and patient and kind and everything Deceit put on to get in close for a strike with fangs positively dripping with venom that burned on contact and stayed in your veins for years.

“Ro, let's let your brother rest for a bit, he's had a big day.”

It was ridiculous. Here he was, curled safely up in a bed next to his big brother, as Patton sat on the corner of the bed, Roman running fingers through his hair and humming that little song about feeding the birds from his favourite Disney movie, with Patton rubbing his back as if doing so would give Remus all the reassurance and kindness he was starved of for so long. This didn't happen, it just didn't. Well, maybe in his fantasies, the ones that weren't for Thomas or the others, the ones that were _just_ for him. The ones where you were pulled close but then there was no knife in your back once you'd been lulled in. 

But this wasn't a fantasy. This was reality. 

A reality he'd been told he was always going to watch, but never participate in. That he wasn't good enough to participate in. He wasn't good enough for Thomas, so he wasn't good enough for this. Then… Why was he getting it? What had he done to earn it? Snakey didn't touch you, hug you, smile at you, or even use your given name unless you gave him what he wanted. Usually it hurt when you did. But he'd been nothing but problems for these guys, so… what was the endgame?

Somehow, he slept. When he closed his eyes, the sun was high in the sky, probably courtesy of the sleeping beauty beside him. When he'd open them again, the bright orange light of the setting sun would be glowing into his bedroom, the sky a mixture of pinks and blues and purples as stars began to speckle the horizon. He'd told Roman he liked when this happened exactly once, and the sap had never forgotten. 


	6. Someone To Talk To When You’re Feeling Low(gan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a chat with Remus in which he reminds him about Deceit’s nature and points out some flaws in his logical thinking. He takes it better than you would think.

Remus woke with a sudden start. He'd been sleeping well enough, only with a few odd nightmares about Deceit playing with his insides or suffocating him in a pit of snakes, (it was a popular theory that being close to Roman and Patton kept the nightmares at bay) so for a moment, he had no idea what might have woken him.

Then he became aware of a very present throb in his head. It started in his forehead, like the kind of headache you get when you don't drink enough water, but it didn't stop there. It was like the front bone in his skull was a gong, and upon striking it, the ache reverberated to all edges of his head, throbbing deeper and deeper into his head with every second. 

That's when he noticed the throbbing radiated down his temples and into his jaw. Not as bad as before mind you, but noticeable. And it was only going to get worse as the medicine wore off, and Remus was a _fucking_ idiot. No, no, no, no, no, of _course_ he hadn't _fixed_ it, what did you _expect,_ madness, you've heard this lie before, they promise to fix things and only make them worse, now look at you, the brain ruined your teeth and there's nothing you can-

Wait. 

His teeth, he realized with a growing sense of dread. Were they even still _there_? He hadn't even checked. 

The next fifteen seconds were pure panic as he tried to fumble for his phone without jostling either Roman or Patton out of their slumber. He didn't even notice how ridiculous Roman looked, hair sticking up every wichway as he drooled. He drew his phone out and slid open the camera, flipped it around, braced himself for what he might see ( _nothing but bloody gums and oozing holes and broken bone fragments_ ), and looked. 

For a moment, he was sure he was hallucinating. Maybe the medicine hadn't completely worn off yet. But after a moment of pulling on his lips and probing around with one of his fingers, he was forced to accept that they were all there. They looked _different_ somehow, sure, but they were all present, the same glinting, bright white, razor sharp things that had been there a while ago, except they were, noted The Duke as he ran his tongue along them, noticeably smoother. Mildly stickier, too, he noticed whenever he clenched them together. 

_Quit pussy-footing around, Remus. Just look at the damage._ So, upon finally gathering the courage, he pulled his cheek back, trying to get a glimpse of his back molar. It looked… fine. It hurt, mind you, but the pain was different. More soreness than suffering beyond suffering. Granted something had changed about it, but at least it wasn't the same putrid smelling thing that had been there. 

“So, how did I do?”

Remus took his hand out of his mouth and set his phone down, looking up to see Logan at the door, holding a phial of pills and a glass of water. He came into the room with a kind of swift purpose and careful footsteps, setting down the glass of water with a soft _clunk._ His voice was hushed as he spoke, as if worried he might disturb the others. “Did I cause any significant damage, deformity, anything?” He asked as he moved Patton’s sleeping, slumped body onto the bed, changing him into his cat onesie with a gesture. 

It took a second to formulate a response. “Hi, Lo Lo,” he said tiredly, voice dry and dusty from sleep. “Look. My teeth. They're all here,” he pointed at them and smiled, showing them off. 

Logan smiled. “Yes. I promised they would be. Do they feel at all unusual?”

“Smooth.” He pried them apart and licked them again. “Sticky, too. Feels weird.”

“Have you never had them cleaned before?”

He shrugged; he knew of the process and all the parts of it that made Thomas’s insides squirm with discomfort, but had never let it be done to him. Deedee had never let him or Virgil come to Logan whenever he wanted to get it done, and… well, he could've probably done it himself if he wanted to. But neither of his darklings would've allowed it. 

_Ah, but since when did Snakey care about that?_ The terrible voice inside his head reminded him. _After all, look how much fun he's had without needing an ounce of your consent._

Logan, meanwhile, was gently prodding his face. The swelling had gone down quite a bit, he'd suspected it was mostly inflammation left over from infection. “The sensations you are referring to are most likely due to the application of fluoride; it should wear off as you consume food. I'm sorry I didn't warn you about the cleaning process, at the time it was imperative not to cause you further stress.” He eventually stopped the gentle prodding and just sat there, looking clinical and calm and incredibly comforting. Up until today, Remus hadn't realized there could be variations of comforting, he'd thought there was only the sweet croon of Liar Liar Both Dicks On Fire as he reminded you that you were made to enjoy pain and that sides can’t die, but Logan’s presence offered assurance and reason in ways that Patton’s just… hadn't. “Aside from what you mentioned, are you experiencing any discomfort?”

“Yes.” Then he amended, “but it’s not bad,” just in case Logan thought he was a baby. 

Logan looked at Remus and, for the first time, there were hints of softness creeping into his features. He took the pill bottle and shook out a few tablets. “Swallow these. They should make you feel better.”

“Yeah, I'd imagine so.” Remus waggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn't have pegged _you_ as the type. Whatcha got? Oxy? Angel dust?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “This one” he pointed to one of the pills resting in his palm, “-is amoxicillin and this one” he pointed to the remaining pill, “is ketamine. They are very common antibiotic and pain relieving medications, and they are a fairly standard prescriptive practice for most endostic procedures. They are _not…_ whatever you're talking about.”

“Suuuuure.” With a giggle, Remus took the pills and threw them back, chasing them with a few grateful glugs of water. 

Logan observed the Duke, wondering in a less clinically detached manner than he would've liked, how on earth they were going to make this work. Sides weren’t strictly human, no, but they did (from his observations) need to maintain some aspects of their physical forms to remain healthy. If Remus refused to allow basic cleaning procedures to occur if he wasn't unconscious, well, to say the very least, it couldn't be healthy. Granted, Virgil needed to have at least one shot of lidocaine to get things cleaned, but there was clearly a significant difference in their dislike of oral maintenance procedures.

After a moment of silence, Remus said, “Logan? I don't get it.”

“What don't you get?” He asked, immediately eager to educate. Just your cool teacher being his cool self. 

“Why did you let me keep them? I was awful, didn't you want me punished?” He asked the question with all the curiosity and intrigue of a small child asking you where the Stars go during the day. Logan felt as though someone had grabbed the knot in his chest and twisted it. 

“I assure you, there are methods of curbing and softening your behaviour that do not involve things banned by the Geneva convention.”

“Snakey didn't care.” Why did they keep insisting on keeping up the charade?! “He told me about you guys, back downstairs, he told me I should be grateful he's so nice to me, he always said your Liar is so much worse, he said he pulls you in by being all, all nice and sweet and perfect, and then he waits, and he, he…” whatever deceit had told Remus Patton would do was cut off abruptly, when Remus took in a gasp, held it for a second, and finally broke eye contact. “... he said we were lucky,” he finally mumbled. “Said Patton likes to wait until you're not suspecting him to hurt you to jump on you. Like a cat. But he's had so many opportunities, what is he _waiting_ for, why is he being so, nice to me?!”

Logan sat with Remus for a moment, calmly considering what to say. Picani hadn't been around for a while, but he'd read enough psychology texts to wonder if Remus was the equivalent of an abused child lashing out at his caregivers. Whatever the case, he clearly had quite a long way to run from whatever had happened in the dungeon. 

“Remus? May I propose a hypothesis?” He asked quietly.

Remus grunted and looked up. 

“You mentioned that Deceit told you that Patton enjoys, as you put it, waiting for the moment you're at your weakest before striking, presumably to cause the most physical and psychological damage. You also mentioned that you have seen several opportunities he could have taken to accomplish that goal with those parameters, which he has failed to take. Am I right so far?”

Remus shrugged, nodded. 

“With this in mind, I must propose three alternatives to your theory. One, that Patton has not seen these opportunities in the same way you have,” _of course not, Patton’s a fucking dumbass._ “Two, that he's waiting for another opportunity, which, personally I think today would be difficult to beat out. Or… well, the final possibility is one you will dislike immensely.”

“... you do realize who you're talking to, right?”

“Of course. The third and most likely possibility is that Deceit misled you about Patton's nature to keep you from seeking out help with us.”

“I didn’t _need_ help.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“Really, I didn’t! I’m madness-”

“Intrusive Thoughts.”

“I’m **_The Duke._ ** Suffering is kind of my whole deal. I’m supposed to always either _be in_ pain or actively _cause_ pain. That’s my job, that’s my only job, I have to be able to do that right, at _least,_ I-!”

“Is this also information you were given by Deceit?”

Remus should have wanted to kill the professor for that little comment. Should've grabbed him by the hair and threw him out the window _splat_ on the pavement driveway outside.

Instead all he could do was freeze. 

“It is imperative that you understand Deceit’s function,” Logan pressed. 

Oh yes. He knew. He'd assured Remus that the endless agony was all a part of the process. But he’d also insisted that Roman didn't like Remus. Wanted him to leave the imagination. But today, here they were, and Roman had promised they were going to tell stories together. And, hell, he'd also convinced Thomas he liked girls again and again and again, for years. The funnest years. But had they really been?

Or had Deceit just shown him who he was, and Remus had refused to listen? After all, virgey had followed him like a shadow all the time, had refused to be handed to Deceit without screaming, and if he was really Thomas’s ‘this-is-a-very-bad-thing’ instinct, did that mean anything?

No. No, that wasn’t right! That wasn’t true! “He lies to you guys, not to me! I’m the one he tells everything! He never lies to _me!_ ” And that _was_ true. Technically, the only times he'd been lied to were when he was teaching Remus how to do his job, like when Remus wouldn't do what he wanted, so Snakey would say the jobs wouldn't hurt. And the way he'd laugh when the lie followed through, oh Remus you're such an idiot, it always made the lie worth it. He was so stressed dealing with a him and Virgin, he needed some fun, right?

And he wasn’t lying when he told Remus how terrible and pathetic and awful he was. His last conversation with the snake rang in his ears, the one after he’d failed _yet again_ to freak Thomas out, the one after Logan had defeated him: “ **_One job! I give you one job and you fuck it up! I take in a rejected little ball of imagination out of the purest and deepest kindness and this is how you repay me?! You miserable little failure, you disgusting little Accident of Imagination!_ **”

That hadn't been a lie. It had been less a conversation and more Deceit hissing and throwing things, but it wasn't a lie. Technically, as Snakey had pointed out once, he never actively lied to Remus. He was leaving the closet early? He'd be back to let him out around two in the morning the next day, rather than the usual five. Thomas wanted to be more honest? Well, he had, Remus was just the monkey's paw version of getting what he wanted. Roman would hate his silly little ideas, his drawings were terrible, and he'd never serve as Thomas’s creativity? All self-explanatory. 

Logan raised an eyebrow in that way he did when he knew you were wrong but would never listen to reason. “Hm. Interesting. May I ask, was it Deceit who said that you needed to be contained at all costs because you were, in his words, ‘all of the terrible things that Thomas truly is that he lies to himself about’?”

“Right!” Good, so the nerd _had_ been listening. He was worried he might have to make him a chart.

“Do you also remember our _Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts_ video where we discussed you in depth?”

“... w-well, yeah…”

“What did we determine you to be?”

“... a series of random nonsense that happens cuz brains are weird.”

“More accurately than that, but yes. Remus, Deceit is very smart. Much smarter than you or Patton or Roman-” in fact, one could argue that he manipulated both of them in roughly the same ways, “-but not as smart as Virgil or myself. So. With all of that in mind, do you think that Deceit also could have figured all of this out?”

“No! Because if he knew already and he didn't tell me he'd be lying and he'd _never lie to me!_ He _can't_ lie to me! _”_ There was a certain note of pleading that crept in his throat that Remus fought to push down.

Logan didn’t say anything in response to this. He didn’t need to. In the silence, Remus heard how his own words sounded, and they sounded- _he_ sounded- incredibly stupid. ~~“Oh madness, you've forgotten my function again.”~~ He slumped with a sigh and Logan felt inexplicably and illogically guilty. Remus needed to know that Deceit could, and did lie to him, all the time, he was not differentiated by anything other than his usefulness. Then… why did taking this away from him feel like he was trying to separate Patton from his cardigan?

“I don't expect this to be solved immediately, Remus,” Logan said gently, soothing as he summoned a brush and moved to un-do the duke’s do. “Abuse takes years to recover from, if it even can be. That's why we're going to summon Picani, Patton and I, and you're going to talk to him. Okay?”

Remus squirmed, attempting to escape the impending bristles. “Wasn't _abused,”_ he insisted irritably. 

Logan tutted, but before the rebuttal on his tongue could take flight, Patton abruptly yawned from beside him. “‘Course y’weren’t, kiddo,” he sighed in as close to sarcasm as Patton ever got. “An’ I'm not actually Patton,” he mumbled, moving his glasses to look up at them. Patton smiled from his lying-down position. “I'm a bunch’a monkeys in Patton clothes.” He giggled at the look Remus gave him. Shocked, startled and confused, three things Remus never was, so what the fuck. 

Logan, on the other hand, looked totally unphased. “Patton, I apologize. Did we wake you?”

“No, no,” he half-yawned, half groaned as he sat up and stretched. “Guess I kinda… lost track of time for a second.”

“It was more than a second, you were all asleep for roughly 5 hours.” Roman continuously so, it would seem. God, that boy needed to go to bed earlier. 

“What?” This got Patton out of his sleepy half-awake state, and finally he opened both eyes. “Logie bear, I'm so sorry, did you and Virgil eat anything? You should've woken me up, I would've cooked something-”

“Easy, popstar.” Remus hastily increased the size of his bed as Virgil came in, holding a tray with a steaming bowl resting on top of it. “We’re not totally helpless, we _can_ feed ourselves.”

“What did you have, then?”

“Eh, we finished off some pizza I found in my room. Must've been from last month's movie cuz it was under my bed. Brushed off the dust and it wasn't so bad. Then we cracked open a can of frosting each.”

Patton made a noise between being strangled and having all the air abruptly sucked out of you. 

Virgil snickered. “Dad, I'm kidding. Logan made more soup. And he… actually did a pretty cool job.”

“Really?” Logan looked around at Virgil, confused. “That's odd, my bowl was exactly 209 degrees. I fail to understand how our portions could have differed so vastly in temperature.”

Virgil groaned and rolled his eyes, Remus snickered, but like the ultimate stealth master he was, Roman used the momentary distraction to pull the brush through Remus’s bedhead, much to his chagrin. “You were awake?!”

“Only for a moment,” Roman assured, checking the brush _thoroughly_ for lice before using it on himself. “And just in time to see that mess.” He gave a soft scoff of laughter. “Why, don't tell me that's how you ALWAYS look when you first wake up.”

“You're one to talk, Prince Pillow-Comb.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Oh, don't ‘I beg your pardon’ me, Knight-Knight.”

“Ahem?” Logan put in patiently. “Speaking of food, Remus, you mentioned you hadn't eaten since pain began manifesting. When exactly was that?”

“Oh.” The Duke couldn't explain where his sudden humiliation came from, only that it manifested the very second Logan asked that particular question. “Oh, uh… y’know… ‘bout Monday.”

“Sweet Swingdancing Gina _Rogers_ , that was almost five _days_ ago!” Roman cried, their battle of words forgotten. 

“Hon, is that why you were skipping out on dinner?” Patton asked, and for some reason, Remus couldn't meet his eye. It wasn't like the glare Snakey gave him, when he broke one of those important special things or when he would abruptly try to give him a hug, but… god, just looking at it made him feel terrible. Like he'd… _disappointed_ him. 

Huh. So there _was_ a difference between mad and disappointed.

“Yyyeah, so, dinnertime for Dookie?” Virgil asked, gesturing to the bowl. 

“Ugh, only if you agree to think of a different insult, Virgin, for the love of _Disney_ , there _has_ to be more than just that **one**.”

“You got it, Dukebox.”

Okay, Remus could admit defeat where it had been found. And it even earned a little squeal from Patton. Remus caved, crossing his legs beneath him as Virgil set down the tray. 

“While the Duke attends to that, Roman, Patton, I have prepared dinner downstairs, if you wish to consume it.”

“We'll be back in a bit, kiddo,” Patton told Remus, squeezing his shoulder in a manner both stabilizing and comforting. 

“I can bring up some Disney movies if you want,” Roman offered eagerly, popping up and rearranging the bed (which had been extended to take up the entire half of the room). “I don't think we've seen Black Cauldron in a while.”

Remus smiled. And he noticed how Roman lingered toward the back of the precession out of his room to hear Remus’s quiet, “Romaine?”

The prince hesitated, glancing back. 

“... Can we watch Mary Poppins?”

Roman flashed a grin of perfect, porcelain-white teeth. “Of course, Ree Ree. Back in a jiffy.” And then he was alone with his thoughts, and his soup.

He stared into the bowl. More tomato basil. Had that taste been ruined for him? Could he even still stomach it?

… let's find out.

He filled the spoon and cautiously brought it to his lips. Hesitating, he took a moment to remind himself that the worst was over ( _you don't honestly believe that, do you madness? Are you_ completely _stupid?_ ), and finally took a bite. 

A few seconds passed. Flavour washed over his tongue and down his throat as he swallowed, and… 

Nothing. No pain. No endless torrent of agony. Just the lingering soreness from surgery, and the leftover heat from the spoonful.

Immediately, upon becoming aware of how little it hurt, he also became aware of just how hungry he was, how little he'd actually eaten over the course of the week, and the fact that, while Dee was right about how Sides technically couldn't die, he still felt close to starvation. 

Eating was faster than thinking, than breathing, than anything. His stomach was an endless, gaping chasm that housed some nightmarish eldritch horror that screamed to be fed, and when food was provided, would scream until it was gone. He abandoned the spoon at some point and brought the bowl to his mouth, draining it in greedy, grateful gulps. It really was delicious. Logan had truly discovered a talent for cooking, one that absolutely could not be understated. 

Time ceased to exist until the bowl was empty, and he'd accepted that it was empty. He raked his sleeve across his mouth, and revealed in the feeling of the warmth traveling down, down, deeper and deeper until it reached the beast it was sent to soothe. What was digesting soup like? Did your acids burn it all away on contact because it was liquid, or did some of it stay and come out as a soup poop? Hee hee hee, soup poop…

_Do you really think you're going to get to tell Thomas stories?_

_Of course I am. Roman promised._

_How many promises have you been given, hm? How many times have you been told ‘oh, it's not gonna hurt one little itty bit madness, you'll think it's funny!’ And ‘I'll be right back, madness, you won't be all alone for TOOOOOOOO long~!’_

_That was different. Virgil had to lie to get away. He knew I'd stop him._

_Oooh, you would've cried and whined and carried on ‘waaaah waaah waaah please don't go little virgieeeee’ and become dreadfully BORING-_

_And Logan said Snake lied to everyone. Even to me._

Something about that stung. He had always told Remus how smart he was and how he'd never fool him with a lie like stupid Virgil or Roman, had always insisted Remus was the only one who understood him, that Thomas would be doomed without their ideas, and without the Duke, the snake didn't know what he'd do. There was a dull, heavy ache that settled into his chest as the realization that Deceit lied to everyone, even him, settled in. 

The Mean Voice loved this. 

_Oh, is that so? He was using his special little sentences, was he, the fun little ones where he uses all those double negatives and opposites? What fun! So when he said you're a part of the imagination, he meant you're not! And when he said you're a side like them, that you're a useful part of Thomas that deserves to be in videos in the daylight in the palace, you're really just a rotting little disease he should have left in the closet! This is such a fun decoding game._

He was startled by a soft whooshing noise at the end of his bed; Roman had effortlessly moved the tv to where they could all watch it, and was currently in the process of queuing up Mary Poppins. 

“Romeo?”

“Hm?”

“Logan said Deceit lies about everything. To everyone,” he took a deep breath. “Even me.”

“That's right, professor Loopy,” Roman said with a hint of softness in his voice. “You're a quick study-”

“Does that mean I'm not really a part of Thomas's imagination? Did… did he just make me in order to bother you?”

_Are we really brothers?_

Roman turned, his stuffed rabbit in one hand and the remote in the other, lying on the bed beside Remus. “I don't think so, Remus. You need to remember, he lies about things he thinks are true. Remember when he kept telling Thomas he was a good person?”

He nodded. Oh yes, he remembered too well. It was one of the longest periods of time he'd gone without training or games, and when that blissful time was done, it had been the worst set in his entire existence. 

“Well, I think it's the same thing here. I think he was using all of that, the worry that you're not really The Duke, that you really are just some terrible, awful disease he made to hurt Thomas, to bother you.”

“But I'm the Duke. I don't _get_ bothered.”

“Logan is logic, he still cried when he thought his unicorn onesie was wrecked. And I get writer's block _all the time_.”

He looked at his brother, amazed. _“You???”_

“The one and only.”

He thought about this, nodding to himself as the others came in with their own pillows and soft things. 

“You finished that right up! Did you like it?” Patton asked, setting the bowl aside.

“Eh, aftershave tastes good if you're thirsty enough.” He hesitated. “Uh, is there… any more?”

“Absolutely, bud.” The tone in Virgil's voice was difficult to place… empathetic? Sure we'll go with that. Like he understood how confused and overwhelmed Remus was, but at the same time wasn't worried enough about it to call attention to it. Maybe it meant that this feeling was normal. Would he get used to being fed and hugged like this? Had Virgil?

“But maybe not just now?” Cut in Logan. “You've been on a starvation diet for a week. Overconsumption of any food, even soup, would be ill-advised. I know, I know,” he added hastily to the chorus of groans this news received. “Tell you what. We’ll give it a half hour and then we'll see.”

Remus gave a loud sigh. More of a whine than a sigh really. “Oooohhhh-kaaaaaay.”

“Don't worry, he usually caves pretty easily,” Virgil assured, before turning to the TV and balking. “Woah woah woah. Roman. Are you sure you grabbed the right dvd?”

“Of course. Why?”

He swung a disbelieving arm out toward the tv. “Mary Poppins. _Mary Poppins?_ ” He looked confused, completely thunderstruck, back and forth between the duke and the prince. 

Well, Of course, there had to have been a price, Remus told himself as his guts began to sink. He’s gonna tell everyone, he’s gonna out your favourite disney movie to everyone, and they’re all gonna laugh at you, _they’re all gonna laugh at_ -

“Well, I’m still his big brother, I’ve gotta torture him just a little.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, Dark and Dreary, Tim Burton’s still on the list. I just thought I’d inundate our dearest deliverer of disgusting drivel with one of Walt’s favorites.”

Remus giggled, relieved, as Roman ruffled his hair. “I could bear through just about anything at this point. Even this. Because it's not fun,” he added hastily. “Like seriously, not at all.”

“Ohh, we’ll see, my Molar King.”

From there, the rest of the evening was a breeze. Logan eventually relented, snapping the bowl full again like an anti-Thanos somewhere around Jane and Michael being brought home by police (“a life of crime before puberty! I'm _sooooo_ jealous!”), and shocker, he was just as starving as he had been half an hour ago. Neither Virgil nor Patton made any comment on how little Remus seemed to truly rag on the film, and they either pretended not to or truly didn't notice that Remus hummed along to several of the songs he professed to despise.

And if he dozed off a bit around “stay awake” and got a bit too delighted over “let's go fly a kite,” well, that didn't have to be mentioned, did it? After all, it was the happiest they'd seen the Duke in weeks. In a few hours of movies and banter and food, _finally_ food, all emotional pangs and physical aches seemed to fade into nonexistence, and nobody was in a hurry to reawaken them. 

They would return. Oh, yes, how they would return with a vengeance. Maybe in the middle of the night, he'd wake up when the drugs and the food wore off, and the pain finally hit him full throttle. But at least he wouldn't be alone in the rotting, stinking nightmare of the Dukedome when it did. He'd be in Patton’s lap as he caressed his face and murmured that everything was alright as Logan went to get another dose of medication, cursing himself for forgetting. 

Oh yes, the pain would come when it came. 

And they'd all be there to meet it when it did. 


	7. Brainstorming Session with Extra Water-Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sides take the time to go visit their host, and request a Very Special Video of him. Tears are definitely not shed.

“You're doing very well, Remus,” Logan said for the fifth or sixth time. “I'm just about done here.”

“Uhhh?”

“I'm applying a fluoride polish to your teeth- I believe you described the sensation as being ‘sticky.’ I won't be long.”

“Uuh.”

Logan had, once again, changed his room into his personal idealization of a dentist's office, with Remus lying back beneath him, fidget cube twiddling incessantly between his fingers. He didn't know where Logan had gotten it and he hadn't cared- just been assured it wasn't Virgey’s (he wasn't risking losing his breathing privileges over this shit) and he clicked the little metal ball incessantly as Logan poked, picked, scraped and scrubbed. Remus didn't dare look, didn't dare do anything but fidget, count his breath times _four seven eight_ and repeat inwardly, _it won't be long. It won't be long. It won't be long_ like a desperate prayer. An apocalyptic sermon without a church. 

Things had changed significantly from the last appointment. Not in the office or technique, of course, Logan had needed to make no changes there. Rather, Logan himself had changed his demeanor and his handling of Remus’s teeth. He hadn't been rough or intentionally cruel through his examination by any means, but he also didn't take any care not to be. That was over now- he was careful in his exploration, keeping tabs on Remus’s reactions to the prodding and poking considerably more, even allowing him to sit up to the point where he admitted (reluctantly) that the process would be easier with Remus lying down. 

He also talked quite a bit more than he had. Telling Remus what he was doing, what was happening to his teeth and when something Logan did was going to do was going to hurt. But he never _said_ it was going to hurt. And he never said it _wasn't_ going to hurt either? God that was confusing.

How to explain it… when something wasn't going to hurt, he didn't say anything. But when something _was_ going to hurt, he didn't outright lie, not like… not like _Deceit_ would have, crooning “now, Remus, don't fuss so much, I promise it won't hurt” only to bust out in cackles as something exploded into agony. Rather, he would give concrete, logical and concise reassurances of what was coming, what he would feel, how long it would last and how bad it would be. Remus, once you feel this pinch, there's going to be about thirty seconds of burning, but then you'll be numb. Alright, you're about to hear a lot of buzzing. Don't worry about it, you shouldn't feel much. This isn't supposed to hurt, tell me if it does, Remus. We’re more than halfway done, now be still, you're about to taste something incredibly sour.

And, to add to the increasing feeling of warm-fuzziness in his chest, Logan remembered the squeeze thing. Every time Remus couldn't handle one more second, he grabbed Logan’s arm (or, you know, just screamed) and it would all stop. Logan allowed him to sit up, breathe, regain his bearings, and patiently waited for the indication to continue. 

“Alright. A quick rinse should have you sorted, then you're done.”

Then you're done. He clung to those three little words like a tumour. Then you're done. Then you're done. You're nearly done. It's almost over.

_He's lying,_ teased the mean voice. 

_He's_ **_not,_ **Remus growled to the mean voice. Contradicting it helped. Telling it it was wrong helped. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, Logan straightened and took his hands out of Remus’s water-logged, funny-tasting mouth. “Okay, all done now. You can get up.”

The Duke turned and spat out the leftover water into a silvery bowl beside him. That done, he practically sprang out of the chair, but it could've been passed off as just being sick of playing the “lying very still” game as per instructed. He definitely wasn't jumping up because he wanted _out_ of that chair and _out_ of that room and _away_ from Logan because his heart wouldn't stop hammering and every cell was screaming for him to escape. He channeled this desperate, ridiculous desire to run into rocking, back on his heels then onto the balls of his feet. “So whaddya think? Worse than last time?” he asked, beaming. 

“No worse than Virgil, I can assure you.” This surprised absolutely everyone, but there you have it. He supposed if one was trying to emulate Roman, having passable teeth would just be par for the course. “You've been following the brushing schedule?”

“If by that you mean brushing when Patton says, ‘kiddo, teeth!’?” It had been downright unavoidable. Patton was relentless, showing up at his door like clockwork with his oddly specific call. Since the incident, it had happened every single night with Patton never once forgetting. He even made Remus and Virgil respectively do it while he watched. The Duke was long since past hoping this was some weird sex thing, but he still didn't get what it was. “Is that just a thing he does? God that's gonna get annoying.”

“Yes, exactly.” The schedule had been a part of their routine for as long as Logan could remember, and seeing as it was the only one he didn't construct, it was also the only one he had no control over. And, unfortunately, Patton was a downright dictator (figuratively) about enforcing it and following it. “He interrupts everybody’s activities every single night for at least two minutes. And, unfortunately, after… _the incident_ ,” he looked up at one of the framed x-rays he had of Remus’s teeth on his wall. “Which was highly informative, by the way, I doubt Patton is going to trust you to follow it on your own.”

“Does he watch everyone do it?”

“No, you and Virgil are unique in that regard. But then again, you are the only ones among us who Deceit has tragically misinformed about-”

Logan was interrupted by a knock at the door. Fluttery, yet with a presence that couldn't be denied. Roman. 

“ _Looooooo-gaaaaaaaan,_ _Reeeeee-muuuuuuus~!_ Are you rea-ady~?”

Logan sighed, changed back into his normal clothes, and snapped his room back to normal. Remus felt himself relax and release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “As we'll ever be, I suppose.”

The door flung open hard and Remus launched himself at Roman with a hard hug. There was something wonderful about not being pushed off when he tried to hug someone, about receiving a hug back, be it one of Patton’s sweet, flowery, warm and snuggley hugs, one of Roman's steady, heroic, protective hugs, Logan’s calculated embraces for ideal comfort, even virgil's awkward side hugs had something delightful about them that couldn't be denied. 

Roman hugged Remus until he let go, only stumbling to regain his footing when Remus tackled him. “Alright, bud, alright. You're alright, aren't you?”

The Duke pulled back, smiling eagerly and relishing the weird, sticky feeling along his molars. This was so weird. Thomas was going to hate this. “I still have them!”

“Always good news to hear,” he said in that confident, reassuring tone that always used to fill him with so much visceral rage and disgust. “Are you both ready? This is so _thrilling,_ our first time rising up _together!_ ”

The commotion he was making in his pure excitement and delight at their plan for the day prompted the creak of Patton's door opening, prompting his exit from the room. 

“You kids all ready?” He asked, as Virgil stepped out and threw his headphones back on his bed where they landed with a _fwhump_.

“Indeed. You'll be pleased to know that the Duke has been healing as expected, the schedule has indeed had the positive impact you predicted, and furthermore…” 

Remus spaced out of Logan’s rambling about his teeth, trying to take everything in. This was really happening. He was here. They were here. They _didn't_ hate him. And they were actually going to do this? They were actually going to take this dumb idea he had and… oh god. Oh god. This was a bad idea. 

_Of course it's a bad idea you idiot, and they're making you come along so you can watch it get shot down in real time, for God’s sake Madness, are you this much of a joke? Honestly, you aren't really_ this _desperate for them to pretend to like you, are you?_

Remus shifted his gaze to the ground, his nerves actually kicking up in a way that didn't usually affect him. He shuffled uncomfortably, not sure if looking up was really the best idea. “Do I really need to come?” He blurted abruptly, before he could stop himself. 

“Would you prefer to stay behind?” Logan asked patiently, not questioning the choice or question, but definitely curious.

“Well, no, but… I mean…” he couldn't quite articulate it for a second. Images of Thomas rolling his eyes, the other sides laughing as he was dismissed back to the dukedom as they mocked and ridiculed him above.

“Remus. Look at me?”

He obeyed, and something about looking at Patton was so… comforting, but terrible at the same time, because the second he did, he knew he'd been forcing that bullhonkey into their heads and he felt like the piece of trash he was. An apology was on his lips when Roman put one of his arms around his shoulders. 

“It's okay, kiddo. You're creativity, too. He's gonna want to hear this from you, too.”

“Exactly,” agreed Roman. “I've planted the idea. All we need to do is help him cultivate the crop.”

“But… but he doesn't know it's for _me_ . He doesn't know it's _about me_.”

“Not just you,” Virgil piped up. “Mean, there's gonna be stuff about us too, right? My imposter syndrome, Logan’s OCD, dad's depression, Princey’s perfectionism… f███ we’re gonna have to make this a two-parter, aren't we?” He asked, looking around at Roman, ignoring the hilarious way Patton censored his curses. It was an impulse he had, one he ignored for Remus upon request. 

(Logan had helpfully devised a list of people who could say Fuck and who couldn't, to aid his dilemma).

“Let's save that discussion for when we get up there,” Logan interrupted before that debate could get to a festering boil. “The point is, even if the video was going to be made for you specifically, Thomas would want to make it. You know he would.”

Remus sighed. “I know,” he admitted, because he did. Deep down, he knew that wasn't his fear. His fear was that Thomas would want to make the video… and then they _would_ . Then all the awful, terrible things would be true. They would be cold, hard, irrefutable canon. Half the base would be pissed. The other half would be like “we were right but also FUUUUUUCK” and when it was out? It was _out._

It was kind of the video equivalent of him.

“Hey,” Roman said quietly, getting his attention. “We're gonna do this one together and it's going to be fantastic.”

He nodded. 

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Remus sighed. “... we're gonna make something together, and it's gonna be fantastic.”

“And don't you forget it mister,” Patton affirmed firmly.

“Shall we then?”

And with that, they sank out.

~~~

Thomas had been feeling weird all week. 

The weird thing was, he couldn't pinpoint the exact source of the weird feeling, and though he'd tried to call up a couple of the sides, he'd only consistently had luck with Logan and Virgil. They'd assured him everything was okay, but wouldn't tell him what was going on. But, he'd trusted them, continued trying to come up with a new idea for a video, and (for some reason) had Mary Poppins songs going around and around in his head. 

Finally, he got something. Five very distinct _whoosh-_ ing sounds that each gave way to his sides. Logan sat stock-straight at the kitchen table with a pencil and pad of paper and a big, thick book in front of him. Virgil and Patton were settled on the staircase, Patton with his arms around Virgil. Roman, sprawled beside him, looking regal and hedonistic, and- and affronted as he stared at the tv?

“Uh… hey guys?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton offered sweetly. 

“What are you doing?” Asked Roman, and Thomas finally followed his gaze, only to jolt when he saw Remus, standing behind the TV.

Except, he… didn't look like Remus as he'd been here before, smug and with a grin that promised terrible things. He didn't immediately start screaming about butts or eating cats or vivisections. He just… stood there. Looking uncomfortable. Looking uncertain of himself. Looking like he wasn't even sure if he was allowed to be here. 

“This is my spot,” he shrugged. Then, reluctantly, “hi Thomas.”

“Now kiddo, you know we've talked about this,” Patton said calmly. “We all stand where we're comfy.”

“That means your spot is over here, with me!” And with a flourish, Roman pulled him over there. Remus squeaked, looking anxiously over at Thomas before curling into Roman. 

Thomas had never been more confused. “Uh… you guys wanna tell me what's going on here?”

“In terms of the improvement between Roman and Remus’ relationship, I am afraid there is not much that can be said. However, I will say that we have made several developments with Remus over the course of the past week,” Logan explained, and it was then that the host realized that the book was a psychology textbook. “Nearly all of them were either positive or productive, at least.”

“Oh? Well, that's… that's cool,” Thomas said, not entirely certain what that had to do with him.

“But all of that got us thinking,” Roman piped up, eager and delighted, but significantly quieter, “and Remus had a really great idea that he was certain you're gonna love.”

“No, he really didn't,” Remus muttered. “Really, I just- I found this thing on Tumblr, and thought it was a bit funny-”

“Ah, he's being modest. Come on, tell the man!”

Well. Now Thomas's curiosity was piqued. Normally, he and everyone else ignored Remus’s ideas, due to the gratuitous amounts of sex and violence they were often based around. But if this idea was Roman certified fresh, well then, he had to at least hear it, right?

“Yeah, Remus, tell me,” he agreed, shifting a bit so he was roughly facing the Creativitwins. “You're gonna tell me later anyway, right?”

“No! I don't have to,” he insisted, hands going up to his mouth as his fingers curled. “Really, I can just… just go…”

“Oh no you don't,” Roman said calmly, grabbing Remus as he tried to sink out. “Remus. Remember what we talked about,” he said in a tone he usually saved for Virgil. “It's okay. It's _okay_. Everything is okay.”

Remus was silent for a moment, then another, then three more, then he spoke all at once, as if he was afraid someone would try to stop him if he didn't. 

_“I-was-wondering-if-we-could-do-a-video-with-Picani-but-he’s-talking-to-us-instead-of-his-usuals.”_

There was an abrupt and immediate silence following this very loud, very complete idea from The Duke. Thomas stared, not certain what to say for a moment, and Remus almost collapsed in on himself, clearly reading rejection from the room.

“Yeah, fair enough. It's okay, it was weird. Anyway, I'm just gonna-”

“Nononono!” Thomas reached out and grabbed onto him, pulling him back up by the wrist with a weird jingling that seemed to follow the Duke wherever he went. “Remus- oh my god, that's really… that's a _great_ idea.”

Remus didn't look up for a moment. Then tentatively, he peered up through the curly, brown mess that was his bangs. “You mean that?”

“Absolutely!” He agreed earnestly, and maybe it was the presence of the other Sides, but he found that he did. “I mean, everyone already calls Picani a fusion of Logan and Patton, I might as well work with that, right?”

“Precisely, Thomathy!” Agreed Roman, positively glowing with pride. 

“We were even thinking of showing some sort of brief clip of me and Logan summoning the door to his office or something,” Patton piped up eagerly.

“It may be beneficial for our viewers to see how we engage our mental health without the presence of you or each other,” agreed Logan. 

“In fact, Remus even has a few ideas as to what each of us could be dealing with. Right?”

“Uh, well, I picked up a few things from Tumblr that could be cool,” he admitted halfheartedly. 

“Well, let's hear ‘em!”

The Duke hesitated, like he wasn't completely certain Thomas wasn't going to change his mind, but he did finally begin detailing plans, ideas for a Picani script, ideas that Roman had helped him hammer out, that Roman had helped him plant, yes, but Remus had done everything else. Patton with ADHD. Virgil and his imposter syndrome. Prince Perfect’s perfectionism problem. He even tentatively suggested Logan bring up his fears of not being taken seriously, of being stupid and illogical. 

Nobody interrupted with his own nonsense out of spite. Nobody brought up the stuff that had happened with Deceit, that had been bugging them all all week long. Nobody said it, and nobody pressed him to say it. It was like it was something that was uniquely his.

Until…

“What about you and Deceit?” Thomas asked. He’d, at some point, retrieved his laptop and was typing notes. 

Remus didn’t answer. It was like he’d forgotten how to breathe. 

“I don’t know if he’s gonna want to join us, kiddo,” Patton said gently. “I’ve been calling and texting but… yeah.”

“We can always do a part two with him and anyone else later,” Logan agreed. “But perhaps now, we might do well to stick to the five of us.”

“Okay, soooo…?” He looked expectantly at Remus. 

Remus rocked himself a little, fidgeting with the popsocket on his phone case. “Mean… I’ve got stuff I wanna talk about but… I dunno, it’s weird. And I don’t know how well it can be put into a script. And I don’t wanna wreck the whole video by making shit too weird, or too dukey, or too-”

“Remus?” Patton waited until his gaze was on him. “Remmo-possum. Thomas wanted to explore more mature themes in his content, right?”

“I do,” Agreed Thomas.

“And we _all_ want you in this one. Not to make fun of you, not to hurt you or make you feel bad. We want you there so you can feel better. None of us will make fun of you or be mean to you. You'll be _safe._ ”

Safe. A promise of safety. A promise that the other sides weren't setting up a sting to destroy him, to bring him crumbling down, back into the pit of loneliness. A promise that they'd be his safety net, and catch him if he fell.

That was… a promise that wasn't made to him that often. It was… nice. 

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

So, with a deep breath, Remus slowly and carefully began describing what he wanted to cover with Picani in the video, and an unspoken explanation as to why Deceit probably wouldn't be there. Patton had to get up and move to keep their host emotionally stable about midway through. 

“I'm good, I'm good,” Thomas assured Remus quickly, as Patton rubbed his shoulder. “Keep… keep going.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, as Thomas’s briefly wet eyes found him, voice thick despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just… just tell me, bud.”

So Remus did. 

Janus, meanwhile, tried with all his might to silence The Duke from the basement. But nothing happened. The prince had a firm hold of both his hands. 

And the Duke was tired of being repressed. 

It was almost comical. In sending the little monster to the one person he thought would repress him the hardest, Deceit had given up his control to do the same. 

He'd opened the floodgates wide, right before a brainstorm, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When discussing the idea, Remus mentions he found it in a Tumblr post. Specifically, he means this one-
> 
> https://hitmewiththatfanart33.tumblr.com/post/186730918267/i-just-need-a-video-where-all-the-sides-talk-about/i-just-need-a-video-where-all-the-sides-talk-about
> 
> Shoutout to @hitmewiththatfanart33 on Tumblr; they seem super neat and I hope they write that fic. Cuz I'm definitely writing about Remus!
> 
> Also! Should that be a separate fanfic from this one? Should this become a series? Tell me if you’d read a fanfic about Remus’s therapy session with Picani, because I wanna know!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to make all the names of these chapters puns if I can. Wish me luck.


End file.
